


Witches of Time. The Scroll of Golem

by valery_rufus



Category: Original Work
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Cross-Posted on FictionPress, Demons, Dwarves, Explicit Language, F/M, Fairies, Fantasy, Gen, How Do I Tag, Humor, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, Mostly Gen, Mystery, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Original Character(s), POV Alternating, POV First Person, POV Outsider, Summer Vacation, Teenagers, Time Travel, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 67,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28714884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valery_rufus/pseuds/valery_rufus
Summary: When your life gives you lemons - make some lemonade. Or at least lemon juice. Preferably with no drops getting in your eyes. When your mom sends you to a summer camp and flies to another continent to pursue a career goal, make a bucket list! Get into trouble: check. Find new friends: check. Get on adults' nerves: check. Discover new powers: check. Staying alive:... well let's handle this one, shall we?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my second attempt at writing this story which has been occupying my mind for a very long time. Previously I've tried to write and publish this story on https://ficbook.net/, but it didn't go well. So, I have decided to give it a shot here. Hope I'll have more luck with this one and will have enough patience and inspiration to write AND finish the story.  
> English is my third language, so I apologize in advance for my mistakes. I'll be happy to correct myself, should there be a necessity. Besides I'll be on the cloud nine if everyone reading this would leave a comment (fingers crossed, kudos) on whether you like it or not.  
> Hope, you'll enjoy your reading!)
> 
> IG page of the story run by me:  
> https://instagram.com/witchesoftime?igshid=1nxecmhn0i6zn
> 
> Cross-posted on FictionPress:  
> https://www.fictionpress.com/s/3354431/1/Witches-of-Time-The-Scroll-of-Golem

Soft pages of an old book quietly rustled, as the summer wind rushed through an open window, bringing the smell of wild flowers, dust and, irrationally, freedom that danced to the tunes of forest fairies and fireflies from grandpa's stories. Sighing I closed the book and tossed it inside a big suitcase currently occupying my bed. Summer has always been a magical time of year for every teenager: tender blossom of the first relationships, rolling thunders of the first fall outs with crushes, friends and relatives, silenced by the ubiquitous rhythm of freedom. Time, when waves of the ocean launched your hopes right up to the sky or crashed them at gnawing cliffs of a shore. It has always been a dream come true: a cake of liberty sweetened with the honey of perspectives and castles in the sky. And it has always begun the same way: my dearest mother has scrutinized the honey under magnifying glass, poked it, sliced a little bit for future analyses and proudly put it behind the exhibition glass labelled: "Honey of Summer Freedom. Approx. 2020 AD. Hands off, Ali. Not for you."

That's exactly what a daughter gets, when her mother is a renowned archaeologist and historian, hellbent on becoming even more renowned, and her father is a _blue-water sailor_ : he flashed his _blue_ eyes, made some splashes in local _waters_ and _sailed_ out of my mother's life, before she could say "Did you know, that in Mesopotamia they...". Or "Despite all these theories, my personal view on the matter is...". Or simply "I am pregnant". Choose whichever you like, all three could be used as potent suitor repellents. Well, at least my daddy knew how to make an entrance and where to find the nearest exit. All in all, in the result I was left with my mother or, more precisely with the flashing images of her that I could see in between endless trips, field works, expeditions, conferences and lectures. It is not easy to dig a great hole in the sand, carefully brush tiny grains out of cracks of a new archeological find, put a pillow on it and then quickly refill the hole, hiding your head in it and leaving your buttocks under the gentle sun. Ah, the great "How to be an ~~ass~~ ace in parenting". The famous Neverland Times Bestseller written by Her Majesty M.Y. Mom.

And still even amidst such a stable family life, founded on misunderstandings, rows and my all times favourite "let's do/discuss/watch it later" ( _Cross the necessary one _),__ we have managed to find a compromise concerning summertime: in June I would supress my joy of finally going to my aunt while saying countless goodbyes to my mother, my neighbourhood and my town in general and in August I would manage a smile while greeting all the latters back in my life. It may rain, it may storm, it may even snow in summer, but I have fought for my teeny tiny bit of freedom and I have no intention to back off. Well, had. This very summer my trusted ally, a.k.a. my aunt, decided she needed some time away from all of her dearest family. Just a couple of days. Maybe weeks. Preferably months. Okay, a lifetime would be just enough, but you wouldn't be THAT merciful, would you? And just like that my mother faced a rather grim prospect of taking her kid to the job or a more alluring possibility of sending me to a summer camp. The prices for the latter had almost pushed her in favour of the first option, but just in time priceless pots, mosaics and neurons of all the people on the future team (present company included) were saved by a knight in shining armour: a small private summer camp that offers some babysitting services for your dearest offsping at reasonable prices. Food included. Please, pay in advance. We would pay you even more at the end of a child's stay just to make sure that you will really take this ~~petty troulemaking shit~~ marvelous little angel back.

 _Bibbidi-bobbidi-boom! Go pack your things in your room! You'll waste your summer and I'm off on my trip! Bibbidi-bobbidi-boom!_ The earworm of a rhyme spinned endless circles in my head as I was taking every chance to procrastinate, postpone and wedge my teeth in my wardrobe just to stay home. Finally, after hearing the fifth part of a brainwashing song of parents' beloved musical "How to be a perfect daughter" (never ask me to play the lead) I tossed the last pair of socks in the suitcase and took it to the front door. Gleaming with delight and joy of victory my mom put the suitcase in a trunk, while I cast the last glance of a sulking defeat on the battlefield. Brown houses stood in two rows, showing the borders of a narrow road, as if preparing to deflect any march of modern nonsense that threatened to loosen the cornerstones of antique society. I could almost sense the hostility of our neighbourhood towards anything that went against the truths of the good old days of our grandfathers. Let's forget the fact that these very grandfathers believed in the greater good of shared goods. Ugh, details. I've said "Ugh, details", Tiffany, not "free details", get lost, I'm not sharing anything! And don't you...

\- Hey, Carnagen! Thinking about your books again? Stay back, or the reality may just run over you!

God, now aren't some people simply meant to spice up your life and make it almost unbearable? Jane Hopkins, a being as loud as the winds that roll tumbleweeds inside the desert of her head. A daughter of our neighbours and the queen of our high school, whose greatest ambition is to become a prom queen and, in perspective, a wife of Dillon Parry - the dream of all the schoolgirls and the headache of his parents. Truly an iconic couple who together can match their IQs to that of a chicken. All my life I have gathered strength to bite back and now as I narrowed my eyes behind my glasses and oiled the gears of sarcasm inside my brain, it dawned on me: the desired moment of sweet revenge and a smart comeback is... yet to come.

\- Ali, what on Earth is wrong with you? Get in the car, it's not like I have all day!

Slumping for a moment under victorious gaze of Jane I turned to my mom with an exasperated expression. Out of all moments, this? The stern look of my mom's eyes promised me a great deal of her reflections on my daydreaming, so I took my time to make several steps to the car and get into it trying to look as dignified as a slightly shy bookworm of a teenager who had just been reprimanded by a parent could possibly do.

As soon as we turned around the corner of our street I relaxed and made my biggest mistake: gave my mom a signal that my ears are free and ready for another round of lecture. Truly, a remarkable woman - trying to fit in a whole summer worth of reprimanding into one ride: let's admit it, even Hercules would not be able to do it. The display of mom's phone showed a map, a destination and approximate time of trip - "Witchbridge, 159 kilometres, time to the destination - 2 hours 25 minutes". I opened a bottle of water and discreetly put an earphone in my ear. "Highway to Hell", just my luck. Well, cheers to the summer, I guess?

* * *

A playful summer breeze danced and spinned, bringing temporary relief to trees and plants along the curving and twisting road. A car that could have been mistaken for a beetle from high up in the sky slithered, carrying away a mother and a daughter, both completely sure of a bit dull, regular summer ahead of them. But truly, what a summer can change?


	2. Witchbridge

If you want to find out what someone thinks about you - get them drunk or angry. If you want to to make a good impression on someone - take them out to their favourite place. If you want someone to regret every decision that has led to this very moment - get them on a two-hour ride in a small car with their quite crossed parent. _Naughty Children Shipping. We provide our outstanding services in delivering pissed-off teenagers to the destination of one of their dreams - nightmare._

It hasn't always been like that. Growing up with your only parent constantly away might mess up with your head, that's for sure. Thankfully, my granpa would always be by my side sweetening the bitterness, cheering me up and lulling me into the senses of safety and more importantly - being loved. He never ceased to amaze me coming up with new games and puzzles that would mirror or develop a plot of a book that we had been reading at that time. How come that a human, a being that sometimes can seem so vulnerable and tiny compared to the outer world and its wonders, was granted the most powerful gift of them all - imagination? The waves of a mighty storm in the ocean threatened a ship full of brave men led by a bald and always undefeated captain, even when this ocean was nothing but a puddle and old grandpa's figurines of various soldiers became more and more rusty with every passing year. Minuscule fairy folk hid under the evergreen leaves of holly, and we would spend days out in the garden trying to find their traces, catch up with them and ask them why a rainbow has only seven colours and why a river shines so brightly on a sunny day. I strongly believed that it was our laughter that scared them away as we would hilariously try to guess what kind of names they have and what kind of names they give to their battle friends - slugs and caterpillars. I rolled on the grass and laughed till my stomach ached, and later I would always find a plastic ring, a pair of earrings or a bracelet hidden under one of the bushes - grandpa said that fairies valued good hunters and such presents from the folk would always bring luck to the one who had found them. I narrowed my eyes and silently wondered why were the gifts of fairies so similar to those that one could buy at our local store? In the evenings grandpa would read me another chapter or two of a new book, in the mornings we would create amazing theories about the next adventures, and in the afternoon he would take me to play on the swings, pushing me high up in the sky. It's amazing how quickly you get used to the sense of security and forget that one day a person, who pushed you and motivated you to reach for the sky, may not be there anymore to catch you.

Before his passing I would eagerly wait for my mom to get back home, expecting her to tell me some of the most gripping adventures she'd gone through while being away, and secretly hope that the next time she would take me with her. After his passing she was met by a silent child who'd rather stuck her nose in a book than go out and socialize. _For never was a story of more woe than that of two people who can't let go._ Mother couldn't let go of her dreams of becoming a prominent figure in the scientific world that stole every precious second of her time, propelling her to go and discover something new. I couldn't let go of my dreams and my habitual cocoon of love and warmth of grandpa's eyes and smile. A cup of hot chocolate before bedtime was substituted for a spoon of brisk excuses on " _Why I can't be at your school play_ ". Though my aunt would do her best to get me back on my feet in making new friends at school before she left our town, I still sought shelter in books preferring perfect fantasy to an imperfect reality. Now as I am approaching my eighteenth birthday, I certainly got better in being around people, even got some friends, and my mother got to spend more time at home thanks to her gaining a certain reputation in scientific circles, as well as dropping the necessity to constantly prove something to the world, but the construction workers were not in a hurry, so the bridges between us existed only nominally. Well, better than nothing, huh? So she has chosen an uncomfortable ride over an uncomfortable summer, and now we were approaching the end of it.

The sun was reaching its zenith and I was playing with my braid by the time our GPS cheerfully announced that we have now reached our destination. At first I was fighting the urge to take my glasses off, wipe them and put them back on. We've driven according to the road plan, right? Right. We've seen the landscape changing, right? Right. Then how on Earth did we end up in a town that was a carbon copy of the terrarium we left more than two hours ago? Now, I grasped the concept of the Russian roulette that is a summer: some of us get the blank cartridge of "do-what-you-want", and some of us get a total summ of the world's boredom.

Witchbridge was so small you could take your dog on a walk, throw it a twig that would land five metres away and it would already land out of town. But, ladies and gentlemen, never underestimate the mighty duo of the city ignorance and old maps: the circles we made around town were rather interesting, but during the fifth round even the idea to lower the window and gracefully wave my hand as a queen in a carriage at her subjects ( or the lovely ears, curious eyes and bums sticking out of bushes near fences every single time our car passed a house) seemed rather tiring. Finally, my mother got sick of the waste of time, parked the vehicle on what seemed to be the main square and stormed into a shop that was unlucky to be open when she was in a foul mood. I got out of the car to take a better look at the area and get to know the scale of my trouble called "private summer camp". Well, from what I saw, one could assume that the houses had no back doors just in case someone found out that there was a _door_ out of town and you could run away without getting _back_. The town architects probably took the assignment and the payment in advance, before signing off the wrong plans: a couple of houses were situated so far one from another you could just sense the hostility between the Montagues and the Capulets, while the owners of the others apparently decided that the cost of the heating was too high and they would keep themselves warm in the winter by sitting on each others' heads. Yes, we're comfortable, thank you very much. Joe, your coffee's ready, I can smell it from my bathroom. Tom, be a darling, pass me a newspaper, I see from my window that you have a new one.

The only detail which did seem to be rather interesting was the statue towering over the round square, depicting a king on a horse. Dark violet flowers with yellow streaks were in full blossom under an old plaque which was impossible to read from where I was standing. After glancing behind and making sure that my mom was still engaged in a conversation with a woman behind a counter of the shop, I quickly crossed the road and reached the monument. The dirt on the plague didn't help with reading, but after applying deduction skills, wits, efforts and wet wipes one could make out: "William V". No years of reign, no years of life, no accomplishents or gratitudes. What's more, try as I might, I couldn't remember such a king who reigned over the land. I got down to check whether there were any other writings or markings at the foot of the statue, when I noticed a glistening from the flowerbed. There were no other people on the street and the poor seller was clearly ambushed by my mother's desire to finally drop her offspring off, so I carefully separated the flowers and picked up a thin white chainlet with a small oval pendant on it. Looks like the fairy folk has decided to cheer me up again, propelling a bittersweet train of memories through my brain. There's nothing better than a good omen ahead of uncertainty, right?

A smile, appearing on my face, quickly withered at sight of my mother fleeing from the shop with an intention to finally drop t ~~he ring into the fire~~ her beloved child off and fly far, far away. The gentle look of her eyes gave me a subtle hint that if I didn't get in the car right bloody now, the hurricane Katrina would look like a hug and a kiss compared to her ensuing actions. As I still liked my head attached to my neck, I jumped in the vehicle that took us to the outskirts of the town in an unsettling silence. God, what on Earth did they tell her in that shop in order to get her so wound up? The looks of citizens became more wary as they stopped hiding and started talking to each other, eyeing our suspicious car, making me fidget and grip the locket in my pocket as if that would grant us protection.

The vehicle came to a halt 10 minutes after we left the square, right in front of closed cast iron gates. As I got out of the car, my gut told me that something was just not right: the three storey brick house behind the gates looked grim and ominous, and there was absolutely no indication of a summer camp situated here. The yard in front of the house was empty save for a couple of trees and a weird statue of a deer, although the all-absorbing silence was even more unsettling than a blank look of the deer's eyes. The building stood just five minutes from the other houses, but it felt like I have suddenly ended up on an isolated island in the middle of nowhere. While I was busy wondering about how quickly you could run away from here to cross the Canadian border and my mom was checking something on the print-out of the camp announcement, frowning, a man came out of the house and confidently approached the gates. The brunet wearing a navy shirt and jeans looked as if he was in his forties, and I could go on and on describing him if not for two factors: a) it is really uncomfortable to throw your head back so as to see what exactly is looming over you ( _though with the height of 5'1 feet the answer is BLOODY EVERYTHING_ ); b) something told me it's not worth doing. Maybe it was the lovely look out of his eyes that could have persuaded a vampire to eat a garlick, get back into his coffin and stay there at least for 500 years. Maybe it was the work of my self preservative defenses. Maybe it was an increasing headache that decided its time has come. ~~Maybe it's Maybelline~~. My mother turned her head just in time to hear:

\- Can I help you? You seem to have lost your way.

So that's what it's like, when the height of your body could only be met be the height of your arrogance. I would have asked how on Earth do you squeeze such a phrase like "You, filthy little peasants, are not welcome here. Thus I have graced you by my presence only to make sure that you leave my lush premises as quickly as it is humanly possible" into eleven words, had I not been itching to punch him in the smug face. However, my mother didn't seem to notice this, thrusting the print-outs to him:

\- I've brought my daughter to the Witchbridge summer camp. I expect we did arrive at the right place? The haughtiness on his face was instantly changed for suspicion, as the man took the papers and inspected them, probably hoping for a forgery or, at least a bad dream. At this moment I felt like we did have something in common. Something like the absolute absence of the desire to spend any time under the same roof. We did have something in common...

\- There is no mistake, ma'am, you've arrived at the right place. Though you were expected to come only in a few days, we can take your daughter in today. This will be included in the bill, of course. The name is Jonathan Ray-Williamson, and I am the director of the camp.

... or we didn't. Given by the glint of my mother's eyes, she was more than satisfied with the answer of this ray of shhhh... ssunshine, and not even the additional cost would stop her from leaving me here. While the adults were busy talking about practical arrangements, I took my bag from the back seat and attempted to accept the dreaded prospect of this summer. I even tried to imagine that it was all just a weird fairy tale, not that it helped, of course. _Dear passengers, please, fasten your seatbelts. Our flight to the castle in the clouds is landing on the firm ground right now, whether you want it or not. Please, stay calm, rational, and we do ask you to refrain from kicking and biting the hand that is going to feed you for the next three months._

\- Miss Carnagen! - The puzzled look on director's face was only rivaled but that of my mom, who, after a moment of silence decided that she has had enough of it.

\- Ali, can you at least try to behave? My plane is in 6 hours, I don't have time anymore. Call me every day, I'll answer whenever I can. Do what mister Williams tells you and, God forbid, you try to get up to nonsense!

The man's unhidden displeasure with my mom mispronouncing his name subdued the dull pain of her brief goodbye. After all, what do you expect from an always busy woman? She's a Jack of all historic trades, but no master of the family relationships. I should have known it by now, but, somehow, this didn't help to overcome an awful whirl of feelings in my chest. A surfer always tries to catch another wave, even when the previous one left him down bruised, shivering from cold. I still haven't got used to it. And, probably, never will. Pity they don't give a manual on humans the day you are born. It would have saved so many tears.

The car had already disappeared around the corner of the street, when I was able to stifle my emotions and started catching up with the man who had carried my suitcase into the house, leaving the front door ajar. The building didn't seem any more welcoming from up close: even the porch with some chairs and a table had no homely atmosphere. Everything was so strangely cold, I was surprised there was no snow coming from the sky and no ice covering the stairs. I wrapped my hands around myself trying not to touch anything, admitting that the strange deer statue did fit into the surroundings. Okay, what does my aunt say? Look for positive details and you will find something "on the plus side" by hell or high water. I am certain to have an unforgettable summer - for better or for worse. I have found a token that will bring me luck. Hell, I'm on the porch of the house where surely are some painkillers! Now get going and start conquering the world! The medicine box would be sufficient right now.

The front door led straight into an old-fashioned sitting room with a sofa, three armchairs and some cabinets with vases, books and figurines. The room was dominated by a wide wooden staircase to an open railed corridor on the first floor with several doors that could be seen from the ground floor. Three pictures of young women on my left hang opposite the empty dark fireplace that was situated between two doors with stained glass. There was also the third door on the left, but just as the first two ones it was closed. I stepped closer to the sofa, right to see the slightly pissing me ray of sunshine emerging from the corridor on the first floor and going down to the ground floor. He shot me an even more severe look than before, probably thanking for the honour of dealing with my lugagge.

\- Sit down, miss Carnagen, it is rather stupid to hold a conversation standing, - he sat on a side cushion of a sofa and scrutinized me for a couple of seconds, unnervingly similar to the way a lab worker looks at one of the lab mice. Hope, he had a chance to read at least half of the curses racing through my mind that were surely reflected in my facial expression. If that is the director of the camp, I am certainly not eager to meet the other staff, should they be alike. Whoopsie-daisy, hit the road, Jack, and hit the brakes, Ali, where is everyone? Aren't there supposed to be a couple of other members of staff in the very least? Why is it so quiet in the house, like there isn't anyone else here? Surely, my mother wouldn't leave me on the real-life horror movie set, would she? My bewilderment must have been perfectly clear, as the man started talking again: - In case you were too busy to interact with the outer world, I will repeat: my name is Jonathan Ray-Williamson and I am the director of the Witchbridge summer camp where you will spend the next three months. It may have escaped your attention, - he smirked, savouring and dwelling on his words, - as apparently everything vaguely important does, but this summer camp was founded to ease the headache for some parents whose kids are the main reason of it...

I was pretty sure I had no lasso to strangle him, but, damn, what would I give to get one right now. Taking a deep breath, I said through set teeth: - Mister Williamson, - a painful wince, ha! You don't like your name being mispronounced? Good. - I am more than sure that you have seen lots of examples of a headache in your life, but this is not a case with me, whatever it is that you are, oh so kindly hinting at. And while we are discussing the camp, how come I see no other people?

The steel in his eyes promised me such a lovely stay, that the Spanish Inquisition would cry, bang their heads and ask him to teach them some methods. Sssunshine of a man, no less. The director has clenched his teeth, exhaled and went on in a much colder tone. Was that even possible?

\- Your refined reaction proves me that your mother was right to send you here. This place was created to bring the better out of youngsters like you, whether they want it or not. Hence, we have great deal of respect for discipline in the camp and any disturbance will have... consequences. A limited number of staff is employed, and it is prohibited for you to enter the staff rooms. The private aspect of the summer camp which presupposes a small group of youth staying turned out to be ignored by you. Shame, you can learn a lot about the world if you stop dancing in the clouds. 

At these words I desperately wanted to check there was no steam coming out my ears, but I wouldn't give him such a pleasure. Satisfied with the achieved resulted, Ray-Williamson continued ranting: - There will be just two more in-comers, sure to come in a day or two. Here you will spend your summer making your contribution to the local community, discovering what does it mean to be a real part of the society - helping the elderly, giving your hand at various types of works. The list of activities is rather impressive, we are still aligning the schedule, but I'm afraid you will not be able embrace its scale, till you calm down. As this is your very first day, you have the day to yourself, but you should not leave the territory of the mansion. I would recommend you to start with unpacking your things in your room. First floor, third door on the left. Up you go.

I didn't dare to open my mouth even to take a deep breath out of fear of all the curse words one can pick up in a melting pot of creative cussing - a high school lavatory - escaping it. With my fist clenched in pockets, I stormed pass him, up the stairs, fully aware of the gaze gollowing me, right till I got out of his sight in the upper corridor. Third door on the left was no different from the first two, and the only thing that kept me from banging it so hard that the plaster would fall on his head was the understanding what it would do my poor head. Be as it may, I am not going to ask him for anything, so I will just have to wait for it to pass on its own. The room I was given was not that big: a bed, a drawer chest, a narrow wardrobe and a nightstand. A door on the right led to a tiny bathroom where a sole teenager would take almost all the space between a sink, a bathtub and a toilet. Most of the bedroom was now occupied by my suitcase and my bag, but I had neither desire, nor intention to deal with unpacking. Feeling exhausted, betrayed and somehow empty, I lied on the bed and closed my eyes, trying to think of a better scenario of the events and failing to do so. The token in my pocket didn't make it even the tiniest bit better. Making the same mistake, right, Ali? Pushing your swing up to the stars, knowing so damn well there is noone to catch you back. The memories of the long lost summers flooded my mind as I let the tiny fairy folk led by a mighty captain take me into the land of my childhood where the stars are so close and the world seems so big. Where I dance and see what could have been. Where I dream...


	3. One day at a time

Since the very beginning of our existence the worlds within have been engaged in a bloody battle with no end and no winners. The struggle for the upper hand and power sometimes stops for a moment, and the invisible troops raise their eyes to acknowledge the start of the interim - the birth of balance. The scales cease their erratic dance, and for a few heartbeats it seems that the raising sun promises the time of peace, casting a slumber spell over tired soldiers. It lasts for a while, long enough to prompt everyone to leave the memories of the unrest behind, right till a tiny grain finds its way to a scale. A quiet drop that won't be heard, no matter how hard you try. A common piece of substance that has become a special part of the existence of the world. A little bit of sand drops and the still scales start spinning, waking the troops up, smashing the box of Pandora and releasing volatility and uncertainty into the world.

Two worlds intertwined in the eternal dance, striving for harmony, seeking balance for themselves and peace for their children. The velvet Darkness and the shining Light of magic on one scale and the curious, yet suspicious humankind on the other. The day the Sun has shone for the first time became the beginning of the two worlds, _constitutione mundorum_ , and by the time the Moon has taken its place on the sky for the first time, the children of the two worlds had agreed that it was too _mundane_ to simply coexist. The magical folk turned up their noses at humans, sneering at their attempts to recreate the achievements of the other world. Over the centuries righteous outrage, greed and envy flooded the minds of people, encouraging them to spark conflicts and wars to uproot what they desired, but could have never had. The children of the other world had simply been waiting for the starting gun. Campaigns, crusades, ambushes, battles, and roaring upheavals followed one another, going hand in hand with constant betrayal, spying and efforts to save one's own hide, hell be with the others.

Through never-ending decades of discord the scales stop from time to time, and the two worlds heave a sign of relief, as the mediators - humans born with the powers of Darkness and Light - have fulfilled their task: helped the children of two universes reach an agreement, even if all parties understood perfectly well that it was a temporary one. The mediators are drawn to places with the heightened tension, where they would settle down and do their best to bring peace to the community. They are not saints. Some fall prey to the promises of either side, some try to bring both parties under their own control, some forget that you actually had to walk the talk and some just can't take on such responsibility. They are not sinners. Given the destiny they can't escape, the one they never asked for, they more often than not can rely only on themselves, as being at the crossroads of two worlds actually means that you don't fully belong to either of them.

Throughout thew world there are places where one scale has been outweighing the other one for a very long time, waiting for the mediators' grain to drop and to restore the balance not only between two communities, but inside them as well, because no years of betrayal and sacrifice leave no trace. Sensing the arrival of new mediators the worlds start sending signals to their children - storms, tempests, deluges and thunders - for them to know that mediators are on their way to lead them to a truce. But are all the children eager to bury their weapons and welcome peace?

The incentive for mediators to get down to business is called a Call. Sometimes it is a Call of their duty. Sometimes it is a Call of the magic hidden within. But sometimes, when the Sun is to rise is up on the horizon, when grass starts smartening itself up with the pearls of dew and the tears have dried, it might be a Call of friend.

* * *

_Free of gravity. Free of thoughts. Free of pressure. I am falling free. **I am falling...**_

_My fingers are numb, and I can't get a hold of anything. There is no light, and I see nothing. The wind plays with my hair. The wind, oh, joyful, untamed and free. **I am falling...**_

_Emotions tie themselves in a knot in my chest. The feelings feel so alien to me. They were born in someone else's heart, but they have found their way into mine. The ropes of anger, confusion, disbelief and a tiny sparkle of hope have entwined, woven together, binding me. I can hear my own heartbeat, just as I can hear the footsteps of fear, entering my mind. I try to calm down, but I keep falling. I try to break free, **but I am falling...**_

_And now I am..._

I opened my eyes, panting, a strange sound ringing in my ears and blood rushing through my body at a speed that Usain Bolt would envy. Drenched in sweet, I felt like I had run a marathon and then someone dropped a house on me. The outlines of the room were getting more and more visible as even more sunlight was pouring into the room through the window, but it took me a couple of seconds to realise where the hell I am. It has also taken me a couple of seconds to understand that the sound that had woken me up and had been plaguing my ears was nothing but the sound of my phone ringing. On the display a laconic writing "Captain Jones" meant that a hurricane of my best friend, Molly Jones, got bored at her grandmother's in Texas and was ready to take the world by storm simply to get rid of chicken feeding duty. Poor birds.

\- Hey, Mols, I'm...

\- Completely out of your mind?! Totally screwed? Because you certainly are!

Oops, a tweak. Poor me.

\- Jesus, Molly, you've gotten a whole swarm of bees in your bonnet? What has gotten into you? I know, just how frantic you can be...

\- Frantic?! Right now, Carnagen, you should be glad you're at least a thousand miles away from me, or I would have strangled you! Jason, put my luggage down, she's picked up her phone. I've said, put it down, not "drop it on someone else's feet"!

The rumbling that has quickly turned into the sounds of a heated argument on the other side told me that Jason, Molly's cousin, had once again fallen prey to her ambitious plans that somehow involved me. Now it was high time for me not to fall prey to her stream of consciousness despite just the slightly, just a little bit, horrible feeling as if I had been seasick for at least twelve hours _and now, our dear beloved passangers, we recommend you to run as quickly as possible to your cabins, unless you want to witness a show of this rather ill-looking jellyfish. Could possibly be a young lady. The crew hasn't figured that one out yet._

\- Molly Jones, pull yourself together and pull away from your poor angel of a cousin! I can't put my finger on how on Earth he puts up with you. Take a deep breath, imagine a life without chicken, though, sheesh, you are one hell of a mother hen, and tell me for fffuck's sake, why are you panicking and calling me at... at... What time is it? - full of exasperation I tried to decipher the face of my wrist watch, when a sudden cuckoo, a.k.a. my slightly nuts, but very loyal best friend, decided to offer her services. Uh, I can't help hoping she hasn't completely blown her roof.

\- Seven hours 3 minutes, Ali! Must be still six in Colorado! You were supposed to call me yesterday, right after you got to that Witchpond or whatever. Do you have even the slightest idea how freaked out I was? I swear,... - I put the phone away from my ear and looked at the screen. 6:05 am. Whoa, I've zonked out for more than 12 hours. No wonder I feel like a ssshhhrimp in a stirred boiling soup - dizzy and in dire need of geting out of stuffy environment. Molly was going on and on, not even noticing the silence on my side.

\- I've looked up all numbers: police, firefighters, ambulance, even the town hall, why do they list the mayor's assisstant number as something particular and important? Aubrianna something-something, can't remember. Ugh, not important, doesn't matter! Not a single human there - only voicemail everywhere, I've left them a message on what I think about it. I packed my things and convinced Pappaw to drive me to you! I have even called your mother, out of all...

Molly's voice came to an abrupt halt, and she inhaled sharply, realizing what she'd said. Being a best friend is not only about protection and support, it's also about knowing your true sensible subjects. And now Molly's touched a sore one. She and her mother and even her Meemaw had had their own opinion about my mom's paranting methods. Actually, it was mostly Molly and her grandmother - the undisputable matriarch of the Jones clan. Coming from such a huge family with so many relatives that they had actially no clue about the exact number of uncles and aunts they had, it was impossible for them to understand how the hell one can leave the family far behind career, scientific circles and recognition. The doors of Molly's house were always open for me, and with the amount of nights I stayed there after school, when my mom gave a lecture in a university in the other corner of the world, I could have called myself their tenant. A bit resigned and uneasy that an old man was almost forced to drive more than 15 hours because of me falling asleep, but grateful for such a friend, I bit my lip and broke the awkard silence, trying to sound perfectly soothing and nonchalant.

\- Molly, please, calm down. I'm fine, I swear, I... I just dozed off and slep through the evening and the night. I'm so sorry I freightened you. - I went on and described everything that happened yesterday, hoping it would help one hot-head to relax. When I stopped talking, Mols take a few deep breaths and started in a careful way that was so drastically different from her usual chirrupy speech.

\- Correct me if I'm wrong: your dearest mother has sent you to what seems to be a private reeducation camp and left you on a haughty forty-something man for the whole summer in a creepy mansion with noone else around. No other in-comers or members of staff. And you have been feeling like a zombie since the moment you set foot into the house. For fuck's sake, Ali, are you out of your goddamn mind? You have to get out of there! Hang on, I'll tell Pappaw to start the engine, we'll....

\- Molly, something tells me that it is useless and that something is a mix of common sense and logic. Right till the end of August I am technically under his guardianship. My mom signed the papers that she agrees to entrust her dearest offspring to the director of the camp for the whole summer. Besides, spare your grandpa. I doubt that he or his car would take the ride really well. And what will your grandmother say?

I massaged my temples, quietly sighing and understing that despite my direst wishes I'm stuck here and there is no way the sunshine of Witchbridge will let Molly and her grandfather take me to their place. Jones has also understood the pitfalls of the situation, but nevertheless refused to give up.

\- Stay alert and be careful, Ali. Plus, keep your phone charged. I will phone you throughout the day, and if you miss two calls, I'll raise merry hell and my close relatives to get you out of there. Promise me you'll stay out of trouble.

\- I promise you, Mols. You know, my only trouble would be a dull book and a cold cup of tea. My phone will always be with me and I'll bombard you with messages to keep you posted. Will that do?

Her eagerness and frankness were contagious, and I missed the moment a smile appeared on my face. It is sometimes difficult to get somewhere even one day at a time, but it gets easier when you know you're not alone. Right now I could almost physically feel her hand around my shoulder and that was something I didn't know I needed at that very moment. She made me promise to text her every two hours, carry a pocket knife that I didn't even have ( _ugh, details_ ) and God knows what else, till she felt reassured enough for us to say goodbyes and hang up.

By this time the sun has taken its rightful place on the sky, prompting the early birds to rise and shine and get on nerves on all the normal people who are stil asleep this early in the morning. As a rule, I would have been in the second cohort, defending my right to a good sleep with a pillow, a blanket, an alarm clock and what not, but the perspective to fall asleep again, sleep through everything in my life and wake up feeling worse than before did not look appealing at all. I got out of bed, took the first T-shirt and a pair of jeans I could find in a suitcase and dragged myself to the attached bathroom. Having washed my hair and my face, as well as having changed my clothes, I tried to give myself a pep talk. Unfortunately, that young girl with strawberry blonde hair in a ponytail in the mirror must have missed at least a half of it. Well, at least she had the decency to get out into the common hall with her chin up.

To my surprise, the house was still asleep as I stepped out of my bedroom - I was sure Molly's call and her shouting all the way from Texas would raise dead, but instead the mansion was dead silent. For a second I thought I heard some noise coming from somewhere downstairs, but not a sound was audible even a moment later. Well, Ali, you're given a relative freedom and don't you dare waste it in a corner of your room. I've decided to look around the house, thought the more rooms I've tried to get into the more pissed off, puzzled and disturbed I became. Not a single open room. Not. A. Single. One. Nay, I've found a staircase up to the second floor and even there someone made sure to keep all unwanted visitors out of premises. Sadly, that included me. Wound up and feeling more and more cornered, I went downstairs and started checking the doors on the ground floor. The one on the right has stood alongside its friends from the upper floors, but the doors around the fireplace were the only ones in the house that were actually open. They both led to a smaller room with large windows and another door - a dining room, judging from the interior. Six chairs stood around the round table covered with a white tablecloth. There was an impressive cupboard filled with all kinds of plates, dishes, cups and glasses between the doors. Something was off in this place though, and every second of standing there gave me the creeps. It felt like this room came straight from the pages of a furniture magazine: polished, shining and completely... unused? There were no scratches on the floor under the chairs that would suggest that someone frequently moved them. No plants, no flowers, not a hint of something that would give away the traces of everyday life swirling in the room. Honestly, 10/10 for it ot be the next set of "Night at the Museum". Would recommend.

Hesitantly, I turned the handle of the third door, expecting it not to budge, but the mechanism went "click" and the door opened. I stepped inside mentally preparing myself for something horrible, when... _Damn! What the bloody hell?!_ A flash of white light, so bright and pure it hurt my eyes, illuminated the room causing me to shut me eyes and back away, bumping into the wall. Something metal hit the floor, although I didn't feel that I had hit anything apart from the rather unwelcoming concrete by the door. My eyes stung, it felt more like someone had peppersprayed me, and tears started streaming down my face. Noone lives a life without getting blinded by a sun reflection at least one, but this seemed to be a total of all sun reflections destined to blind humans on this very day. I stood there blinking for a minute or two, till my vision returned back to normal. It turned out that I ended up in a kitchen with another door ( _Jeez, how many of them are there in the building?_ ), although, contrary to the dining room, it had the air of being lived-in. The working area, a kitchen island, a fridge, a cupboard and a couple of chairs - everywhere you could see some traces of life and human activity: a dish cloth left hanging on a chair, some bread crumbles on the kitchen island, a saucepan on the stove. But the peculiarity of the house has spread even here: a dirty knife lied on the floor, the kettle was beginning to run and some jars on the working area were left open as if... as if I have walked into the middle of someone preparing a meal, but the room was empty. I glanced back inside the dining room to check whether someone simply went into it from kitchen. Nothing. There was noone but me. The nervousness started mixing with nausea in my gut and my head started getting dizzy again. My heart started racing, as I turned back, crossed the kitchen and ran out of the room.

The cool morning air was a welcomed thing after the house that only made me freak out. The sun rays fought their way through the branches of a thick forest growing a little away from the fenced circular backyard. I took a few steps down the stairs and sat down to catch my breath. The place eminated peace, calming my nerves, and the freshness of a summer morning helped me to feel better. The feeling that something is wrong didn't leave me, but, at least, I wasn't that close to panicking anymore. Well, with a clear mind I could achieve far more and... Hold on, stop pulling the lever, Cronk. A tiny detail, previously unnoticed, suddenly has turned into a nagging question: was there any surface that could have reflected the sun in my eyes so that they would hurt so much? There wasn't even that much of a sunlight here yet thanks to rather dense woods.

Great, the anxiousness is back again. Alright, Ali, high time for a crime re-enactment, isn't it? You just get up, get back into the house and take a closer look at the... _BLOODY HELL!_ What is he doing here?

\- I see you fancy a morning walk, miss Carnagen? No doubts, ready to do at least something good in your life?

Ray-Wiliamson was standing on the top step with his arms folded looking as fresh as a daisy. An almost two-meter high daisy with a self-esteem of a king and a shitty character. I wonder if there's anyone on this planet who could put up with him for longer than three minutes.

\- Good morning, mister Williams, - I spit. Finally, something that makes me happy as a clam - his so badly hidden irritation.

\- How... how did you you get behind me? I didn't hear you.

\- It would be better for you to stay with your feet on the ground and your head on your shoulders - it would save you from the embaressment that follows after you groundlessly accuse people of sneaking up when you simply don't pay any attention. Although, - _could the smirk on his face get any uglier?_ \- I assume you've gotten used to the feeling after all these years. The breakfast is served to the dining room. Follow me, we still have some things to discuss.

They will make me a national hero. There will be monuments dedicated to my patience and my self-control as I am certainly not going to kill this piece of shhhh... At least not in the backyard in the broad daylight with God knows how many possible witnesses around.

Taking a deep breath I marched into the house stomping through the kitchen only to find out that the man was already sitting at the table and another portion of breakfast was served right across the table. Fine. With my head up I took the seat and started eating my breakfast, pretending I was all alone in the room and struggling not to throw a knife or a fork at this wonder of a man. We spent a couple of minutes in silence before the director broke it while pouring himself some coffee from a coffeepot.

\- Your community work starts today. For a while you will be assigned to help missis Robinson at her florists shop, we'll see if you can handle at least some basics, - _take a deep breath, Ali, count to ten._ \- She needs some assistance with the preparation for the state flower show - not a hard work, but with you I have some doubts, - _... four, five, six..._ \- You will stay there till the very end of the working day, doing whatever the owner tells you to. There's a map of the town on the coffeetable in the sitting room, "X" marks the spot, try not to get lost on your way there and back home - such a great town as Witchbridge with its ten streets will obviously puzzle you, - . _.. control your anger bubbling up, and once more. One, two..._ \- After you come back we will discuss your first working day. Now, missis Robinson did say something about the clothes choice - something old you're not afraid to get dirty - but your current clothes, especiously their colour, seem to fit in the description quite well, so no need for you to change, - _you son of a..._

 ** _BLAST!_** A lound cling and a sound of broken glass erupted in the room, making me wince and cringe away. Coffee stains got all over the tablecloth, but it was nothing compared to the damage caused to Ray-Wiliamson. His white shirt was now completely hazel, and the liquid, brown and, judging by his expression, very hot, was dripping from his face. There were some shards lying where the coffepot once stood, though even more of them were scattered across the man's part of the table and on the floor. Besides, something told me that one of the shards broke a window glass. Probably a glance to the right. The director was at loss of his words, and before I could process what I was about to say, I heard my own voice.

\- The colour suits you.

Not even a chameleon could change its skin colour as the emotions changed on the man's face. Confusion gave way to fury and hatred, but before he could open his mouth, I jumped to my feet and stepped closer to the door.

\- I guess, I'll go to the florist's. Bon appetit and good day to you.

I ran out into the living room, grabbed the piece of paper on the coffee table without looking at it and left the mansion as fast as I could, stopping to catch my breath only after the gates closed behind me. Well, that was unexpected. From me. I guess I do have some strength to fight back when propped up the wall. Only... shit, that bummer had wound me up so much, that I forgot to check the kitchen! Gee, I'll have to put it off till I get back from the shop. Now, speak of the devil, where is it?

Even with the image of a compass the map of Witchbridge could have been printed on a napkin and you would still have enough room for a four-tier cake recipe. Ray-Williamson had drown two circles on the paper: one for the building of the camp in the South and the other for the shop on Aspen street situated three turns away, in the South-East part of the town. _Hope, you don't get loss, lah-de-dah._ I'll do my best. So, forward, right, left, right.

Before setting off I took my phone out of the pocket and typed a quick message to Molly.

**To: Captain Jones**

**Text: Off to work - a florists shop. Director's a jerk. Will text whenever I have time.**

The road to the shop took me around ten minutes, a little longer than I expected, but I had no trouble with finding it - a big bright sign with all the flowers you could imagine stood out against a row of neat identical houses. After smarting myself up a bit, I braced up and entered my work place for the next couple of weeks. Little bells chimed as I closed the door and a pleasant female voice said:

\- Coming straight away, give me a moment!

Okay, this already sounds better than the camp's ray of sunshine. I took my time to look around: the shop was really cozy, but not really spacious - most of it was taken by a counter opposite the entrance and racks full of flowers, plants and sacks with different kinds of soil. Lovely paintings showed what will the bulbs look like when they will grow, and a familiar sight caught my eye. _Duskbloom_. Small dark violet flower with yellow streaks, the one that grows at the foot of the statue on that round square. A whole basket was filled with the bulbs, but no grown flowers in the shop itself. It's a real shame, though, I like them. I wish there were some duskblooms in full blossom in the shop.

\- Looking for something special for your garden? I assure you, duskbloom looks lovely everywhere. Are you interested only in that or in something else?

I turned around and saw a plump elderly lady with a radiant smile standing behind the counter. Contrary to the camp's director the woman was a breathing example of kindness and charm, looking more like a good grandmother that a shop owner. I smiled and stepped closer to the counter.

\- You're missis Robinson, right?

\- Indeed I am, child, how can I help you? - the lady's smile couldn't get any wider.

\- My name is Ali Carnagen, I'm staying at the Witchbridge summer camp. Mister Ray-Williamson has sent me here to help you with the state flower shop preparation...

Missis Robinson looked taken aback and stood silently for a few moments as if I told her that I'm a dinosaur and I'm about to perform a part of a Swan lake ballet. Finally she pulled herself together and went on with a nervous laughter.

\- Oh, dear, dear me. I wasn't expecting you so soon, - ah, so the sunshine treats everyone like a haughty baboon with no exception and doesn't bother to notify people that someone came a bit earlier than expected.

\- Don't worry, missis Robinson, I was supposed to arrive a couple of days later, but the situation has changed, so... here I am.

\- Oh, that is wonderful, - the woman has regained her friendly posture and was beaming with cheerfulness. - It's even better. The flowers for the show preparation haven't arrived yet, and I still haven't sorted out the backroom, but with you here, we'll finish everything in no time! Step behind the counter, honey, I'll show you...

And so the first working day started. I mostly dealt with sorting the bulbs into the correct baskets, sweeping fallen petals and leaves, watering the plants, sending a couple of reassuring texts to Molly and reorganizing a very cramped backroom under the watchful eye of the shop's owner. To my surprise, the place was a hub of activity, swarming with clients wanting to buy some flowers or to share some juicy bits of the town's latest runours. An old gentleman with a pug was the highlight of the day as he allowed me to pet his dog and to play with it a bit. Missis Robinson seemed delighted that the pug was occupied ( _later she told me it breaks a pot every time its owner sets his foot into the shop, and today was the first time it hasn't_ ), and after that she took me to the backroom for a lunch - divine pastry with some tea - during which she told me all new rumours of town. _What am I to do with this information - no idea_.

The clock on the wall teased me showing that there are 15 minutes left till the end of my working day, and I was rearranging some pots in the main room, when I heard some screams outside. By the sound of it, two men were having a hard time finding a compromise. _Just like all of us._

\- Don't you dare to frame my mother, you hypocrite! Go run into the forest, fetch some branches like a good boy you are and get lost!

\- I'd rather help you to get lost in a bat cave! Stop denying what everybody felt: there was an impulse this morning coming from where you live! Know someone else who lives in the Southern part of the city?

I knew, it was no business of mine, but my curiosity got the better of me, and just as I was about to go outside to take a look, a new deep male voice rumbled outside.

\- Enough! Both of you! This is no place for a conversation! Get back to your places! Now!

Sudden loud movement on the street suggested that the third person was in charge here and noone would object to his commands. Through the glass door I caught a glimpse of a pale young man, not much older than me, but before I could get a better look he turned his back to the shop and went away.

\- That Lawson boy again. Thinks the whole world belongs to him, now that his mom is the mayor's private assistant. Everybody knows, how she got the job.

The only client in the shop went on ranting about the mayor's new assistant - her personal enemy, by the sound of it, but missis Robinson looked uneasy and avoided looking at me for some reason. I shrugged and got back to pots, when the exclamation of the client distracted me once again.

\- Abigail! Why on Earth havent't you told me you had duskbloom flowers! You know, I'm terrible at gardening, I never buy bulbs, but these are simply marvelous!

Dark violet flowers with yellow streaks stood proudly in a basket next to the similar ones filled with bulbs. I blinked a few times, but the image didn't change - the flowers spouted from the very bulbs I admired in the morning and wished they were in full blossom! How...how on Earth?

\- Ummm, Ali, - missis Robinson's voice sounded weak and she clung to the counter as if she was afraid she'd fall, - I think that's enough for today. You may go.

I put a pot back on the rack, muttered a quiet "Goodbye", and left the shop, feeling confused. There were too many weird things happening today, and I couldn't find even one plausible explanation. I tried to describe it in a text several times, while walking back to the camp, but something stopped me every single time and I deleted them all. What am I going to write? " _Hey, Mols, I feel much better now, but the flowers in the shop sprouted from bulbs without water or soil! Just as I wished! Cool, huh? Oh, and a coffepot exploded in the morning when that jerk was insulting my clothes. Not a speck on me, but he looked like a wet dog!_ ". More like " _Hey, Mols, one night in Witchbridge and you're talking rubbish!_ "

Plunged into my doubts I reached the street where the camp was situated and saw a big red car parked in front of the gates. A man was talking on the phone, while the director, a woman and a girl of my age stood there, apparently, waiting for him. To my satisfaction, Ray-Williamson looked even more irritated than the time he was forced to meet me and my mom.

So, a new in-comer. Now that will be interesting. I put my phone back into my pocket and started walking towards the mansion, as the setting sun was painting the windows of the house crimson and scarlet.


	4. Turn of the tide

Every turn of the tide takes a lot of hopes, uncertainties and promising opportunities. It takes away all the doubts, forcing to face the reality and take a stand, having finally decided where your loyalties lie. The turn encourages the brave to take a chance and change the game. But, more importantly, it takes time.

It starts with a spark somewhere deep under the night-blue waters of an ocean, in the most hidden corners of one's soul. The whirl of suppressed emotions concealed by a friendly expression of one's face feeds the spark, nurtures discontent, exposes grudges and kindles a flame. But what is never to be forgotten is that even under the silk covers of blue nights, in the darkest and most hidden corners of a town nobody is ever alone. The numerous little flames burning on their own turn into one giant bonfire that lights the area up and shows troops way to the battlefield. The scales flicker and spin on an endless merry go round, leaving no stones unturned. The troops are taking their places, ready to see _bloody red._

Scarlet, garnet, crimson, ruby, merlot... There is a _bloody_ lot of ways to say _"red"_. But as the sunset paints the town in all possible shades of the color, red mist was spreading over the eyes of some of its citizens. Everyone made haste to get home, subconsciously recognizing the raised red flag, and hurried to lock the doors, knowing that the moment the dusk rolls out the red carpet for the night, the town will be set **_aflame_**.

* * *

\- Sooooo, you can't really tell? Get lost, Roger! Betty, of all the nerve, not on my shirt! - Molly's voice mixed with the chickens' chuckle from the speaker filled the room, as if teleporting me to a big old family farm full of laughter, sunshine, and, according to Molly, chicken shit. I stifled a laugh and shook my head while trying to squeeze another pair of jeans on a shelf of a wardrobe, five more waiting for their turn in an open wide suitcase.

\- Nope. We didn't even have an opportunity to speak normally - she's a bit shy and the sunshine doesn't actually encourage having an open and friendly conversation, you know? Now, come on! Drats!

\- What's going on there? You sound like you're pushing an elephant through a mouse hole. Cooper, stop getting in my way! If I make some scrambled eggs right in the middle of the yard, I'm telling Meemaw it's all your fault!

Right before a new battle between Mols and her Meemaw's shepherd's dog could get into full swing, I sighed and took all the clothes that had fallen out.

\- I'm trying to put all my things into the wardrobe, but the terrible thing is smaller than it looks and they all keep falling out of it. I'm litterally this close to simply keeping them in a suitcase all three months.

\- Stop sulking, chipmunk, you can do it, I believe in you. So, in general, nothing creepy and unsettling today? Apart from a silent newbie and a rude jerk?

I pushed the last pair of jeans back on the shelf, got onto the bed and looked hesitantly at the display of my phone, replaying the events of the last couple of hours in my head.

* * *

 _I put my phone back into my pocket and started walking towards the mansion, as the setting sun was painting the windows of the house crimson and scarlet. I didn't want to thirdwheel during the goodbyes of the family at the gates or to speed up the process of getting back under the same roof with the charming director, so I took every chance to postpone the sweet moment of my arrival at the doors of the camp. Thankfully, there were still houses in the "municipal" part of the town (_ though the "outskirts" where the camp was situated and the road to it were 150 and 25 metres away accordingly _), so I could waste some time pretending to admire roses and whatever weeds were growing in the front yards. Unfortunately, the watchful eyes of devoted gardeners spied on me, suspecting that I was choosing the best flowerbed to steal some plants from, so I had to speed up in order to avoid providing a somewhat embarassing explanation at a police station later and soon I couldn't delay of a closer acquaintance with a newbie and her family._

_And just as I was preparing for the inevitable, the man (probably the father of the girl) finished his phone call, barked something to his wife and got in the car without saying a word to his daughter or Ray-Wiliamson. The girl tried to smile and be joyful, but the way her shoulders sagged as she waived goodbye to her mother hinted at the very opposite emotions. None of her parents seemed to notice that as they immediately started talking about something the moment the woman got into the vehicle. The car shot past in a red flash and had I not jumped of its way at the very last second, I would have probably become a rather bizarre ornament on their hood._

_I actually had to take a moment to calm down after such a quick departure of the couple (_ and try not to fall into a muddy ditch full of something unidentifiable from the edge of it _) and by the time I got my balance back, the girl and the director had already disappeared in the house. Well, all for the better, huh? I strolled down the road, enjoying every second without the annoying bully, though the feeling in my gut told me that the girl is probably a normal person and a possible ally. Besides, I could do with some company right now, so I passed the gates and went straight to the porch. Strangely some bags were standing by the door - the girl didn't had that many luggage to leave some of it unattended while you carry the rest of it, so it seemed like the sunshine didn't want any of it in the house. Huh. Now that's intriguing. I should ask her what's inside and get the same stuff, twice as much._

_Full of curiosity, I pushed the door and stepped into the living room, right in the middle of sunshine's welcoming speech._

_\- ... which means, miss Lyons, that you, just like miss Carnagen, your partner in trouble, who for sure has not just interrupted our conversation, will spend your summer helping the local community and learning to be useful. Now, miss Carnagen, I suggest you go upstairs to leave your bag in your room and then come back here to join us in the dining room. If you, of course, don't prefer to have sleep for dinner for the second day in a row. In that case, I wouldn't be surprised or object, taking your character into account._

_Oh, no, I'm not granting you an opportunity to insult me again (and in front of a newbie). I may not be the toughest warrior in the town, but I've had enough of his comments. And judging by the fact that the other girl looked like a deer caught in the headlights, he wasn't extremely nice to her either. I unclenched my teeth, faked a polite smile and said in the sweetest voice I could manage._

_\- Oh, don't you worry, mister Williams. Contrary to people's beliefs, missis Robinson is a nice and caring person who made sure that our acquaintance and my first day of working with her were pleasant and friendly, despite the fact the she was clearly unaware of my early arrival. That, in its turn, has nothing to do with you failing to notify her, I'm sure of it. Besides, should I feel sleepy again, I will be sure to opt for a nice cup of a hot coffee. We do have a spare coffeepot, don't we? - if there has ever been an embodiment of a human kettle, it was the sunshine at this exact moment - I actually started worrying that the top of his head would blow off letting the steam out. Satisfied with the result, I gave a sincere smile to the newbie. - I will be back in a minute._

_It took all my self-control not to start skipping as I went passed the director and went up to my room. My mood has never been so good since the moment I arrived here - the sweet little revenge and a prospect of having another adequate person in this house being the main reasons for it - so I threw my bag on the bed and decided to smart up for the dinner. The quick look into my suitcase suggested simply another pair of jeans as the only possible way of smartening up, so I've decided to put on the locket I found and get on with the evening._

_Mrs Jackson, our principal always says this. Mol's Meemaw keeps telling us that. My aunt would have engraved this, had she known her way with a chisel and a hammer. But, no. No, no, no, goddamn, no. I have to learn it the hard way. Cross the bridge when you get to it. Don't you start thinking you might have earned even the slightest bit of someone's good graces simply by making a snarky comment to the bully that terrorizes you and a smile. I landed from my plane on the cloud nine right into the harsh reality, a.k.a. the most awkward dinner **ever**. _

_Apparently, the seat opposite the sunshine was from now assigned to me, and the new girl was silently sitting between us, on my left. It was already uncomfortable enough, given the fact that I didn't know the name of the girl (_ I couldn't bring myself to call my peer miss Lyons, nope _), but with the silence prevailing over the room, we've reached another level of awkwardness. Director pointedly ignored (_ that didn't cause me any nuisance whatsoever _), but the girl looked straight into her plate and didn't raise her eyes even once. I tried some admittedly a bit lame conversation starters to no avail, but before I could snap a quick text to Molly " **S.O.S. Human problem, how do I get a newbie to talk me?** ", sunshine has increased his chances of becoming the headache of the century._

_\- Miss Carnagen, I don't expect you to find our company particularly pleasant, but if you would be so kind as not to shove it in our faces, we would be the most grateful. The phone on the table and out of your reach. This also concerns you, miss Lyons._

_My spirits sank as I saw the girl followed the orders like a lamb without looking at any of us, and I felt powerless. Well, we're back to square one and I have neither energy, nor desire to object. I wouldn't dare to look at sunshine's face as I put the phone on the table and pushed it forward, letting him win this round._

_Not a single word was said later during the evening, and I hurried to finish my plate to get out of the room. It seemed that all of the company present shared this intention, so soon there was nothing on the table, save for my cup of tea, the girl's lemonade and some strange liquid in sunshine's cup. Itching to avoid being at the table at all costs I grabbed my plate and my cutlery, made my way around the table and pushed the door to the kitchen. And again. And again. The door rattled, but didn't budge._

_\- Miss Carnagen, if you want to get yourself a door handle, you should buy it, not break one out of the closed door. It is bound to cause inconveniences to other people, had you forgotten that you don't live on your own._

_\- I have a wonderful memory, mister Williams. It rarely fails me. I would never try to break anything off in this house - it takes one to know one, but once in a while everybody makes mistakes in their judgements. The only thing I was trying to do was to bring my dirty dishes to the kitchen, but..._

_\- If you fail several times in a row, stop tearing the house down, - director's voice went up a few notches, and his fist clenching his fork turned white. - Miss Lyons, if you've finished, go to your room. Upstairs, third door on your right. Now. And you, miss Carnagen, take your seat back, we haven't fully discussed your first day of work._

_I can't even imagine how happy and relieved the newbie was after hearing this, but she was out of the room before I could blink (_ not that I can blame her for that _). Taking a deep breath, I marched across the room and stood behind my chair with my arms crossed. Sunshine tried to to drill holes in me with his eyes, but I've had enough of this evening and his company in particular._

 _\- You wanted to talk about something? I'm afraid, I have to hurry - I have planned a call with my mom, and I wouldn't like to miss it, -_ _liar, liar, pants on fire. From my experience I still had a few days till my mom starts feeling annoyed with me ignoring her, but a text in a day or two would be more than sufficient to calm her down. The thing is, the sunshine doesn't have to know that, and I am more than eager to use every excuse to get rid of him._

_\- What an impressive insight. As a matter of fact, I do want to talk about your first working day. Missis Robinson's forgetfulness might have made it a bit more difficult, but I'm sure you can remember that soil goes first in a pot, and they you add water, not vice versa. The shop owner hadn't called me begging for mercy which I take as a sign of your relative success. It is that or the phone lines went down again, and the poor woman had no possibility to complain, - why on Earth isn't there a spare coffeepot on the table? A kettle? A jar with piranhas?_

_I suspect that my thoughts were so clearly reflected on my face, that the director pushed his cup with whatever liquid was in it away from himself and spoke with haste._

_\- Anyway, it turns out that due to the upcoming mayor's deputy election not so many people want to burden themselves with unpredictable teenagers. Your work at missis Robinson's shop will be prolonged. You, as I repeat, are to do whatever she tells you: sweep floors, throw the rubbish away, make sure no rubbish escapes your mouth and try not to break every single vase there. Can you handle this?_

_Something snapped. Shatters on the floor near the cupboard suggested that now we were not only one coffeepot, but also one cup short. Ray-Williamson narrowed his eyes and went on with a hint of strain in his voice, as if he was walking on thin ice._

_\- If you don't have any questions, you're free to go._

_I stormed out of the room, not giving a damn if I would hit someone with a door or if a piece of stained glass would fall out of it. Haughty, arrogant, abusive son of a bitch! No, I'm not bearing this anymore. I don't care where my mom is: tropical rainforests full of snakes, igloos with nothing but hungry polar bears around - anywhere is better than here. When I got into my room I must have looked like I had been chasing tourists down the streets of Pamplona for the last couple of hours, but that didn't bother me at all. One phone call and this nightmare is over, just one short..._

_**Damn!** No, no, no, **NO**! I have NOT lost my phone. I threw the contents of my bag out on the bag, nervously rummaging. Some coins, earphones, sweetie papers.... OK, Ali, now it's not the best time to screw up that much. Take breath and try to recall when was the last time you saw it. So... I wanted to text Molly on my way home. Wanted, didn't do it. Than.... than I needed her advice on the conversation, but I didn't text her. And then...._

_I facepalmed so hard I could feel the bruise forming. This jerk told us to leave our phones on the table, but after dinner I was so wound up that I forgot about it! Ugh... How high is the possibility of the man still sitting there? ~~Pretty high, given my luck.~~ Still, the perspective of things staying as they are was far worse, so I had to pull myself together and go back to the dining room. _

_I peeped out of my room and scanned the corridor. Well, the coast is clear at least in this area, so it's worth a try. I sneaked out of my room, went downstairs and crossed the sitting room, stopping at the door, trying to hear whether there was anyone in the adjacent room. It seemed silent like a class after a teacher's tricky question, so I pushed the door, praying that I'm not pushing my luck._

_Thank God, the room was empty, and my phone was still on the table, alongside with the newbie's gadget and my untouched cup of tea, but something felt... odd. It took me a minute or two till it hit me: the room has changed. While I was out for maximum 5 minutes, someone has taken all the dirty dishes, put a vase with some flowers on the table and....changed the tablecloth? This one has embroidered pigs on it of all things! I would have definitely remembered that, had I seen it before. I looked on the floor - no shatters - so I looked at the cupboard... and I was stupefied. The broken cup stood in the front row, it was easy to notice, but the china set on the shelf wasn't missing any of its pieces. I could have brushed it off and chalk the incident up to my agitated imagination... but that set wasn't white and blue._

_I grabbed my phone and called my mom. It took my several horrible seconds to do it, as it is awfully hard to do anything when your fingers went numb, but I was unbelievably close to crying with happiness, when I heard the first tone. The cold automatic voice after a few next tones brought me close to crying from desperation._

_The number you dialed cannot be reached. Please, try calling the subscriber later._

_Well, what does my aunt say? Stay positive? At least there is something in my life that never changes. Hang on... My aunt! Jeez, I'm stupid, the solution was right under my nose all this time and I just..._

_**The number you dialed cannot be reached. Please, try calling the subscriber later.** _

_I sat down and threw the phone on the table, trying not to break down. Wasn't surprised in my mom's case, but surely didn't expect this from the second attempt. The lump in the throat objected to being gulped down, so I took my tea, hoping it would help me. Please, be still warm, please, be still warm... Yes! Now, at least something good. Just a small sip, and than I will..._

_**Blasted hell!** I coughed so hard, some tears went down my face. I never drink tea with sugar in it and I didn't put any of it this evening either, but whatever it was in the cup tasted as if someone has dropped a whole sugar bowl in it. "At least something good", my ass. Cross the bridge when you get to it, Ali. _

_I massaged my temples, trying to come up with an idea of what to do next. Returning the newbie her phone seemed like a good start. Then I can try calling my aunt once more. Now which room was it? Second or third door on the right?_

_As it turned out I didn't have to rack my brains: as soon as I stepped into the right wing, I saw the furthest door wide open and heard a conversation from the room behind it._

_\- ...I'm not that comfortable. The truth is, I'm not comfortable at all..._

_That must have been the newbie as the female voice with a slight accent was young and a bit shy. It struck me that this was the first time I've ever heard her speak, despite us being in the same house already for an hour. The train of my thoughts was interrupted by an irritated male voice._

_\- Eugenia, I don't have time for your whining! Do you have to be such a cry baby? Can't you take after your brother?_

_\- But I..._

_\- I'm sick of it and I don't have time for it. You have a house to stay in, you have some food, some company, you will survive. The boarding on our plane has started, time's up. And call your mother next time you want to cry on someone's shoulder._

_The sound of a Skype conversation end sent me into a tailspin. Looks like I'm not the only one dealing with "wonderful" family relationships. Disturbing her doesn't seem right at the moment, but putting her phone in the dining room would be even more stupid. Just giving it to her and leaving promptly would be the best option._

_I approached the room, knocked on the door frame and looked inside. Her living space was a carbon copy of mine, just a little bit bigger: a four-poster bed, a wardrobe, a drawer chest and a nightstand. The only difference was that the size of her room allowed to put a chair and a table where an open laptop was now standing. Oh, and the wallpaper was peach, not greenish blue like in my bedroom. An open suitcase was lying open on the floor, some of the things out on the bed and some still inside the luggage piece. The girl was standing with her back to me, fiddling with her things on the bed, clearly not in the mood to face me. I knew the feelings all too well, so I cleared my throat and stepped a bit into the room._

_\- Umm, Eugenia, right? It's Ali, the other girl staying here. We weren't really introduced so... - stop mumbling, give her the phone and leave her alone, for fridge's sake! - You forgot your phone in the dining room, here it is... I'll... I'll just put it here, on the drawer chest. If you need anything, my room is the furthest one down the hall._

_I turned on my heels and raced down the corridor, stopping only when the door of my room closed behind me. That could have been worse. It's not like it couldn't have been better, own it. I took my own gadget out of my pocket and tried calling my family once more. New attempts, old answer._

**_The number you dialed cannot be reached. Please, try calling the subscriber later._ **

_Well, apparently, I'm staying here, so I might keep myself occupied and unpack before my clothes get wrinkled beyond the point of no return. I open my contact list and called "Captain Jones", never being more happy to hear the sounds of Meemaw's farm._

* * *

I stated at my phone screen hoping to see the solution for my dilemma on it. I can't tell Mols the truth about exploding china pieces, growing plans and changing tablecloths. But, on the other hand I couldn't pretend that everything was alright, could I? Soo... When in doubt, rule unbelievable out.

\- Well, the newbie doesn't seem to be on the best terms with her father, but I can't say anything else about her except for that and the fact that her name is Eugenia. 

\- Well, at least, you'll learn the difference between a rose and a cactus, while you're working in that store, you hopeless child of city and civilization. Chin up and wash your hands before lunch - soil under nails is never that good for digestion.

\- Oh, of course, as the great guru of food who never chickens out while facing the obstacle of wire and wood, - the stories of clandestine discos at the forgotten rancho were legendary. The story how Molly decided to sneak out to witness one, got her dress caught on the fence wire and got stuck in here till her Peepaw freed her in the morning, was even more legendary.

\- One-one, bish, one-one, - Molly chuckled on the other side. - At least flowers can't ruin your clothes.

\- They have thorns.

\- They don't have beaks, 'cause trust me, those are worse. And the newbie... I'm sure you can make... - a crash interrupted Mols out of the blue. I jerked on the bed, staring feeling worried.

\- Mols? Mools? Molly Jones, are you there?

\- Yep. Right here, - her chirruping was gone and metallic notes of a Terminator hinted that soon someone will have to pay dearly for whatever they had done. - I was saying that you'll make something out, but I've made an omelette right on Meemaw's porch, so right now I'm going to hang up and make a steak out of this dog that pushed me! 

And right before the call was ended I heard a distinctive scream "Cooper, now get back here, you filthy ... - MOLLY!". Sounds like Meemaw is on the warpath whenever anyone tries to tell her furry angel that it's a demon with mats.

I smiled, but the nasty feeling in my gut whispered that I've lied to my best friend. Again. Taking a deep breath, I told myself that it would be better for me to omit some details than to tell her some fairy tales. Such a rationalist, as Molly, would think I'm making this up. The only thing is that I should remind myself of that more often and louder to drown out the voice of consciousness. 

The rest of the evening was uneventful: I sorted out my clothes, hid my suitcase, took a shower and read a book till the clock on the display showed that it was high time to go to bed if I don't want to be late tomorrow. The summer sky was rich dark blue, deep as the water of an ocean and equally enchanting. The dark shadows crept out of the furthest corners and covered the room with a velvet blanket as I turned the light off. Fresh wind danced in the room as I closed my eyes and imagined a summer that wouldn't be different from the previous ones. Here's the auntie's house. And here is her hall. And here I'm standing...

* * *

_I'm standing somewhere but I can't see where I am. Everything is covered with a thick milky fog and only some light can be seen in a distance. I try to approach it, but it doesn't get any closer. I run, walk, I even try to jump, but I'm stuck in one place. Some noises can be heard from afar, but they fade in the mist, turning into something indistinguishable._

_Tired of running and running out of options, I stop and try to concentrate on the light, standing on my tiptoes and squinting my eyes. At first, I can't see anything. The sweat is running down my back and my temples, making me nervous, and my futile attempts to see through the mist are no help. I give up and sit down. I feel like I have unloaded a whole lorry of bricks, I'm getting frustrated and I'm getting nowhere. And amidst the chaos in my mind a persistent voice goes on and on. **Concentrate. Focus on you want to see.** And I get up again, and again, and again, peering through the fog, till..._

_A figure appears right near the source of light. I haven't been expecting that, so I'm taking a step and losing my concentration. The milky mist comes in a huge tide way, hiding everything from my side, but this time I know what to do. I take a step forward and look through the fog searching for the figure, hoping it's still there. The low tide comes, and someone is waiting for me there. The dark figure looks like a shadow, a cardboard cutout from a cheap puppet show. It's a woman in an old dress, the one with a long trace and the upper part of a skirt sticking a mile behind a woman's.... well, behind. She's holding a large rectangular object in her hands - probably a picture of something._

_The woman turns around and takes a few steps to the left. Her movements are smooth, unlike that of a marionette, but I still can see only a shadow. She raises the objects and hangs it somewhere, leaving it hanging in the mid-air. My mind tells me, that there should be a wall for a picture to hang on, but I can't see it. Instead three smaller shadows,no, three children come to the woman, surrounding her. One takes the adult by her hand, although I can't see whether those are boys or girls._

_The woman turns to the nearest child and..._

**\- Ali! Ali!**

_The milk wave washes everything away._

* * *

\- Ali! Ali! Wake up!

The knocking in my door didn't stop and grew only louder, so I took all my strength of will and raised my head from the pillow. The sky was already lit up behind the trees and the room was full of some strange smell. Jeez, I'm not the best cook in the world ( _one day I'll get the apron "Kiss me as I ordered pizza and spared your stomach"_ ), but if it comes from our kitchen, I'll wait till lunch, thank you very much. 

\- Ali! Open the door!

Sheesh, I'm coming, I'm coming. No need to smash the door. Tired and not feeling relaxed at all, I got out of bed and opened the door, ready to face another day. Anxious Eugenia stood in the corridor in her pyjamas, white as a wall.

\- What.... What's going on? Have I overslept? The sun is up on the sky, what time is it? - I mumbled, rubbing my eyes, trying to wake up.

\- It's not the sun, it's a fire! There's a fire down the road!

\- What? - great, now I have learnt another way of waking up or sobering in a blink of an eye, but somehow I'm not glad about it. _I wonder why._

\- Something is on fire down the road! Hurry, it might spread to the forest and then get to our house! And I can't find the director anywhere, the doors are locked! Come on, let's go!

Her accent became stronger, as she was worried as hell, so it took my sleepy brain a while to process the info. Strangely, this was more than enough for her to get down the stairs and run out of house, as I stood there blinking. **_Shit._** Should I follow her or should I stay? What can I do there? _At least something. Your grandfather would have done everything he could. Or do you prefer to hide behind a book cover?_ If I get into trouble, blame my consciousness. Cursing and swearing I got a cardigan out of wardrobe, put it on and ran after the blonde girl.

I adore the Disney cartoon "Mulan" and the words _"Boy, was I fool in school for cutting gym"_ have never described the situation more precisely. I caught up with Eugenia only when we have almost reached the place where the fire was blazing. Panting, I asked the question that has been occupying my mind since I raced out of the camp.

\- Do you know, what is on fire? Cause I thought it was a sunrise.

\- I just saw something burning out of my window, but couldn't see what exactly - the girl was out of breath, making long pauses between the words in the short phrase. Keeping up with the events was more important than keeping up with the conversation, so we kept on running, till a crowd of worried faces told us that we've reached our destination. 

Scarlet, merlot and deep orange flames were devouring a car, dancing madly on the background of an ink black night sky as if they were trying to bite off a piece of it. Apart from that, there was another blaze up, but the dense crowd of neighbours and spectators in their slippers and nightgowns didn't let us close enough to see what it was. Some people formed a chain passing plastic buckets of water, trying to save at least some piece of the property. Sometimes the hopes shines brighter than raging fire. I was about to ask a bystander, how we can help, when Eugenia tugged my sleep and pointed at something in the middle of the crowd. 

\- Look! What on Earth is happening? 

Some sounds of a heated argument broke through the worried murmurs of the crowd. I couldn't see anything that far away, so I took Eugie's hand and made our way to the heart of the crowd in the most diplomatic way ~~using my elbow and knees~~.

Two groups of people were facing each other. Those who were standing on the right looked like they were in their element, just like a fish in the sky. They seemed so out of place, pale and dressed up to the nines, that all the bystanders in their PJs and hair curlers avoided them, keeping their distance. Or they didn't try to get closer because of the expressions of the slickers - the sharpies made such faces as if they have smelled something atrocious in their vicinity ~~must have been sunshine's shitty character~~. 

The other group stood on the left, closer to the burning car, and as some of them were covered in soot and some of them were coughing it was safe to say, that those were the owners of what now was turning into a charred framing and ashes. They were surrounded by other people, comforting them, offering them some water or patting them on shoulders. It might sound strange (especially as it's me of all men who's saying that), but those who were flocking around the second group were alike as two peas in a pod: squatty, a bit plump, with fleshy noses and strong hands. I mean, the might belong to one family, but in that case, even the Jones vast clan would be outnumbered. The women were applying an ointment of some sort to the burns on the hands of the injured, when one of the ladies turned away to grab something behind her, and I saw miss Robinson passing her a towel? I blinked a few times to make sure I was not seeing things, but the image didn't change. Nope, it was definitely my employer in slipppers, a nightie and a nightcap, holding a first-aid kit, buzzing with activity, but only when another member of the emotional and medical support group approached her, did it occur to me how similar they were.

I was about to walk up to her with Eugenia to ask how we can help ( _'cause let's face it, if we're already here, it would be better to give a hand, than to participate in the nightgown catwalk_ ), when a sudden scream from the right pierced the night, startling me. A slicker lobbed a jab, saying how someone couldn't even arrange a party that would be properly _lit,_ and the fat hit the fire. Members of the groups who were standing right next to each other, sprung into action, pinning the opponents down and starting punching the lights out of them. It happened so quickly that I didn't understand what was going on, till the tally showed 10 smashed knuckles, 5 loosened teeth, 4 broken noses, 2 bloody noses, 1 broken arm and 1 sharpie knocked out. Eugie had a quicker reaction so she pulled me back, screaming something about a hut blowing up. That build a fire under me, so I ducked behind a tall man, and we took a few steps back from the front line.

Caught between two fires, the bystanders couldn't decide which one should they deal with - the actual one or the human one. Screams, growls and shouting turned it all into a whirl of chaos, the sounds of mayhem reaching the sky and drumming the rhythm for the dance of fire. The people rolling on the ground, snarling and beating each other black and blue seemed to lose every piece of humanity in them and turn into feral animals, going for the throat, and the sheer sight of it has given me creeps, petrifying me with horror. Fortunately, the other members of rival groups who managed to hold their fire at the very beginning of the fight, started dragging the fighters away with the eventual help of the neighbours. The fire-eaters, however, thought that the clash was far from being over. 

\- ...your henchman, he'll do everything you say, the stupid old bat? Was it hard to make him set the car of fire, batting for your rotten side?! 

\- Call your dogs off, Graham, they're barking up the wrong tree! Making a dog and pony show to get some pats? I didn't even think you've sank into such a doghouse.

\- Get out from your mommy's skirt and I'll show you what a doghouse is right off the bat!

I turned around, looking for Eugie, ready to seek a shelter again, should the second clash break out, when the siren of a piecemaker drowned the gathering storm. Witchbridge fire brigade certainly wasn't in a hurry, but it timed its arrival perfectly to cool the hot-heads on both sides. The street was really narrow, so we had to press our backs to the gates to let the fire truck pass. This gave an opportunity to finally pull the rivals apart, and get down to business. Standing there, on the street full of agitated people, I felt alien. Not because I wasn't from this town, but because I seemed to be the only person bothered by the amount of dog and bat idioms shouted during the fight. Noone else questioned the specific choice and treated the fight as a cockroach - something unpleasant, scary, but otherwise ubiquitous and even normal. I've always wondered how Clark Kent fooled the world simply by putting his glasses on. In Witchbridge he wouldn't have to do even that.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, when someone put a hand on my shoulder, but it turned out to be Eugie, waving for us to get out of the crowd. I followed her, happy to get even a few metres away from the bull's eye and to catch my breath. She seemed to be evenly shaken up, so I waited a bit before asking a question that nagged me.

\- What that some sort of a yank-somebody-out-of- brain-freeze technique?

\- What? - the girl frowned, trying to catch up with my train of thought, and I gave myself a mental facepalm, trying to quickly paraphrase my question so that normal and adequate people could understand me.

\- Back there, in a crowd you've shouted something about a hut on fire, in order to make me move, right?

She chuckled nervously and lowered her eyes, avoiding any eye contact. 

\- It's nothing... I just, just mistook a car for a hut, and thought that there was another blaze up, don't mind I just...

And right at this moment another scream interrupted her.

\- Don't let the fire spread onto the shed! They store fireworks there!

And somehow I knew what was about to happen...

The ink black night sky flashed cherry, garnet, lapis and shamrock. The Starry Night of van Gogh came to life up there on a June sky canvas, even if the colours were a bit wrong. They sizzled, swooshed and exploded into myriads of colourful sparkles to the music of shouting, curses and panic.

The self-preservation instinct kicked in, and the crowd in one massive tide flowed back, blinded by the urge to get away from the raging fire. Firefighters ran forwards, unfolding fire hoses, starting to drive the fire away and pull everyone who was injured away. The maddening gathering ran over everything and every living being in their way, stumbling and pushing each other like dominoes. Someone shoved me onto a flower bed, trying to escape as quickly as possible, and I was undeniably glad the owners opted for some grass and forget-me-nots ( _and I'm sure not to forget the night_ ) as I landed right in the middle of it. A phrase from the manual bubbled to the surface: **_if you fall down in the middle of the running crowd, cover your head with your arms and press your knees to your chest._** A couple of minutes I spent in this fetal position seemed like an eternity and I didn't dare to open my eyes right till I heard a familiar voice calling me.

\- Ali! Ali!

Missis Robinson bent over me with worry in her eyes, her hand still clutching the kit. I tried stand up on my own, but my knees hurt like hell, and I fell back on what was left of those poor flowers. The older lady helped me to get up, take a few and to sit down on someone's porch, where I finally had a chance to look around. The street was relatively empty: the firefighters were occupied with extinguishing blazes, some people were tending to those who got hurt or helping them to go down the street. Eugenia was coming to us with some dirt on her clothes, but visually unscathed. I waved at her, and she took a seat on the same porch.

\- How do you feel? Are you alright? 

\- Just couple of scraped knees. They will heal soon. What about you? The last I saw you, you.., - _predicted what would happen in a couple of seconds, but what's so strange, huh?_ Missis Robinson was rummaging in the kit nearby, and as I saw the freightened look on Eugie's face, an excuse came out of my mouth. - you fell on the ground, but, thankfully, you seem fine.

\- I landed on a lawn, so... Some bruises and that's it. Ali, I think you ummm....you... - the girl's relief was quickly changed by hesitation, and I had a strong and nasty suspicion that someone did me an ill service, till miss Robinson turned to me with some rubbing alcohol and some cotton balls.

\- She's simply trying to tell you that you also have a grazed cheek, sweetheart, but your knees got ot worse, so you didn't notice it. I take it, that you're Ali's new camp friend, love? - the lady gave Eugie a smile and I could see the latter immediately relaxing. In the middle of the street, on an empty porch of someone's house missis Robinson has created a small safe corner, where the tension faded away and disappeared once and for all. The horrors of the night hurried back to their darkest corners with their tails between their legs, and for the first time since the sunset I felt completely at ease.

\- Missis Robinson, let me introduce you Eugenia Lyons.

\- Pleased to meet you, missis Robinson, - Eugenia moved a little closer and took the kit the lady gave her.

\- The pleasure is all mine, child, the pleasure is all mine. I would prefer for the circumstances of our acquaintance to be better, but we have what we have. You're not from these parts, are you? I've never heard an accent like yours around here.

\- New York born and raised, - a wide smile and a proud glint in the eyes were appeared on the blonde's face as I raised my eyebrows in surprise. A five-hour flight to send your kid off to the camp in the middle of nowhere? Missis Robinson had the very same questions that she didn't fail to mention.

\- That's... unusual. I thought there would be other places nearby or camps that would be a bit more closer. How are your parents going to visit you? - and just like that Eugenia's good mood went down the drain. She looked away, her hands started fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. I heard her conversation with her father, and from my own experience I knew how can such questions hurt, even if a person didn't mean it, so I snapped out the first lie that came to my mind. 

\- My aunt will take care of us, - the florist and the girl were equally surprised to hear it, and I went on with haste. - Our parents know each other since the college days, they kept in touch all this time and they've decided to send us to the camp so that we could spend more time together. My aunt lives in a town not far from here, she'll drop by now and then to check up on us. After all, there should be a responsible adult around, contrary to mister Ray-Wiliamson. 

Lyons was happy to avoid the topic of parents, and missis Robinson's disdain of the man prevailed over her suspicions about my made-up story, and she huffed.

\- Your aunt will be absolutely right to keep an eye on you and on him. It's beyond me how he got the post - he's practically a hermit, never talks to anyone, but our mayor talks highly of him as if Jonathan were his teacher's pet. Eugenia, dear, I'm going to disinfect Ali's injuries and she might kick - the procedure is not pleasant at all, so take a step back. 

It took missis Robinson a couple of minutes to clean the skinned knees and a muddy grazed cheek, but it took all my self-restraint not to scream on top of my lungs from all the stinging. Eugenia helped the lady to pack things back in the kit, and we took a few steps away from the porch. The fire brigade has almost finished its job, but there still were some people to tend to, so we waved goodbye to the florist who turned her attention to a man with burnt hands. 

The sounds of the activity died out as we turned around the corner, heading back home. Here it felt like nothing was happening just a few houses away. I took a breath to ask Eugenia whether she was sure she was fine and didn't need any medical attention, but she beat me to the punch.

\- Thank you for telling missis Robinson that thing about your aunt. You must have heard that talk from the hall, I'm sorry you had to witness it. And I'm sorry I've got you into this, I thought...- Eugie's voice snapped and she turned away. And the worst thing was that I knew exactly how she felt, so I did everything I could to comfort her.

\- There's nothing to be sorry about. It's not your fault that the crowd panicked, and to be honest, I'm glad you rallied me up to go with you - I would have regretted staying at home, - her shoulders became a little less tense, so I kept on. - And the parents... You're not the only one, you know. My mom sent me here in order to avoid having me by her side all the summer. I guess that makes two of us in the same boat.

She raised her eyes, and we exchanged sad smiles. At least there was someone by my side who could fully relate to me, while Molly was fighting for my freedom and fighting a shepherd's dog hundreds of miles away. Besides, you can't help feeling supportive of a person after the turmoil of the night.

We talked all the way back home. I told her briefly about my mom, aunt, Molly and grandpa with bittersweet aftertaste lingering. Eugenia told me about her loving shy mom, boasting younger brother and her father, obsessed about the continuation of his line who believed that the only real heir should be male. And you would think we left the Middle Ages far behind us. I told her about my favourite books and she told me she has brought her easel, canvases, brushes and paints, but sunshine almost shrieked in horror, when she told him what was in the bag ( _ah-ha! Mental note to myself: buy some brushes and paints. If Ray-Wiliamson thought that simply their existence was dreadful, he should wait and see my masterpieces._ ~~And try to guess why a horse looks like a hippo~~.). She seemed to be really passionate about painting, so I promised to show her the backyard tomorrow. By this time we've reached the gates, and the turbulent events alongside a long journey for Eugie, and a full working day for me were taking their toll on us. The front door was left open, and sunshine was nowhere to be found, so we tiptoed our way to the first floor, wished each other good night and went to our rooms.

Standing in the shower and washing the grass and leaves of those unforgettable flowers out of my head, I pondered upon the last 24 hours. Eugenia was a normal girl, that's some good news. We're not the only ones disliking the camp director, so that's also cool. But the inconspicuousness of the locals was unprecedented. Compared to them some citizens of Beacon Hills were fully trained undercover agents, no less. And nobody seemed to mind it...

I had some time till my alarm clock would ring, but I turned and tossed in bed, trying to fall asleep to no avail. I closed my eyes, and the events replayed in my head again and again. Counting sheep didn't help, and I was lying looking at the ceiling as the tender dawn shyly started painting the room in pastel shades. I decided to try and read myself to sleep, when I heard some quiet steps outside my door. Thinking that Eugenia must have wanted to talk about something, I got out of bed and opened the door without making any sound, ready to smile and reassure the girl but not ready for what I saw.

A small white swirling and shimmering orb lighted the staircase and the face of Ray-Wiliamson. He was standing with his back to the landing of the first floor, staring intensely at the sphere, squeezing his eyes just like I did to see the shadows in my dream. The orb was flowing above the palm of his hand, and I even stood on my tiptoes to make sure that was not the trick of light or the shine of a phone flashlight, but the vision didn't change. There was nothing in his palm. There was nothing holding the orb or securing it as it spinned like a whirligig. After a few seconds he cursed, waved his hand and stormed out of the building. The orb melted down into thin air, like it had never been there in the first place. Wide-eyed, I closed the door, pushed the drawer to it and sat on my bed staring blankly into wall, unable to process what I've just seen, till the alarm clock welcomed the official start of a new working day. Just a summer camp, Ali. Nothing in particular. A couple of werewolves, a couple of vampires and God knows what as your camp director. Well, I see nothing to worry about. 

The rest of the morning routine was... chaotic. Everything fell out of my hands, and for twenty minutes I couldn't understand why I couldn't tie a ponytail with a charger wire, nearly throwing a tantrum before taking a closer look at _what_ it was in my hands. As I was already running very late to work, I've tied my shoelaces and raced down the dining room, a thought of the sunshine possibly sitting there hit me. I'm not trusting him, but the morning vision was bizarre to say the least, so I should probably behave as if I hadn't seen anything. Or noit to look at him at all - less risk of getting pissed off, getting nauseous or getting suspicious. Satisfied with the solution I've finally let my thoughts to catch up with the reality observations only to realize that I was the sole person in the room. The breakfast was served for two ( _the tablecloth didn't change - joyful pigs were still there. Mental note to myself: never buy such a thing when I get my own home_ ), and a small note lied near a jar with some soda.

**_Have to deal with vital municipal matters. The breakfast is on the table, miss Carnagen should be in the store by 8, miss Lyons has a day off. Will come back soon._ **

**_J. Ray-Williamson_ **

Vital municipal matters... Seems like miss Robinson was right about him being the mayor's teacher's pet. I wonder what did he do to get such a merit? He definitely did not get it by gaining the grassroot support. I should ask the florist for more information on the matter, if she would be in a good mood, taking into account the fact that it was aleady 7.55. I wolfed down the food from my plate ( _I might be late, but I'm not going anywhere without having my breakfast!_ ) and washed it down with my tea, taking a look at my phone screen, checking whether... Yuck, holy guacamole! I take back anything I said about the tea yesterday, turns out, it was divine. I took a spoon to check whether the cup was coated in sugar inside. It seemed to be clean, but I didn't dare to take another sip, till it would be rinsed, washed and scrubbed. Several times. I took a pen out of my bag and scribbed a small note for Eugie, telling her where she can find me and leaving my phone number and the map of the town for her. Having done that, I threw my things back into my bag and challenged my inner hot vehicle rocketing down the streets.

As it turned out, the tea wasn't the only thing I was wrong about yesterday: the buzz in the store just a day before was nothing compared to the hustle and bustle that it was today. I didn't get a chance to greet missis Robinson or to utter an excuse for being late, as she shoved me a list of plants I should retrieve from the backroom. Chamomile, echinacea, goldenseal, valerian... I didn't even think these things were supposed to be here! Everyone wanted to get some healing herbs for ointments, remedies or balms - my word, it's a congregation of druids and not a small town in the middle of nowhere! Running back and forth with the ongoing lists of herbs I barely had some time to sit down or to exchange a couple of words with missis Robinson. The flow of customers started drying out by lunch, so I decided to sweep the floors before we go on a break - the pigs from the tablecloth would have been delighted to play on such a floor, but an adequate individual would call it the Augean stables. Just as I was coming out of the backroom with a broom in my hands, missis Robinson came from behind the counter and stopped me.

\- Sweetie, I'm afraid, we don't have time for that. I have some matters to attend to and we will have to finish early today. I'll take care of everything when I come back later, but you're free for today.

\- Does it have anything to do with the fire this night? - a flash of suspicion and awareness that should have had no place in the caring eyes of missis Robinson suggested that I should get on her good side right about now. - I mean, there were so many people injured that you surely need a hand in tending to them? And actually I didn't have time to thank you for your help during the night, so...

Her gaze softened and she turnes into a kins grandma-like lady again.

\- You're welcome, child. I'm always glad to help people, and our medical staff took immediate care of the injured - the hospital was just up the road, you see. Besides, I should thank you and your friend in my turn for not staying aside - it was a great comfort for the family to see so many people that were not indifferent to the trouble, - her voice got more serious as she continued. - Now we just have to make sure it never happens again. Having mayor's protection doesn't mean that they can do whatever they want. 

I really hope that missis Robinson didn't notice the glint in my eyes, so I quickly put the broom in the backroom, grabbed my things, said goodbye and slipped out the store. Eugenia sent me a message, wishing me a good day and saying that she is painting in the backyard, should I decide to come back home for lunch. I texted her back, asking her to retrieve a book from my room as I'm off early today and I would be glad to join her.

Th swarm of thoughts was racing through my mind as I was going to the camp. So, the vampires really are against the werewolves, and the Robinson family is backing up the latter. ~~Was Bella the reason of the fall out?~~ It seemed like the hatred has been bubbling for quite some time, but now things are going into full gear. And the vamps are under the mayor's protection, just like the sunshine. Are they on the same side? Now i surely would like to see ~~that idiot who entrusted the position of the summer camp director to Ray-Williamson~~ the mayor.

The backyard where I headed as soon as I passed the gates was filled with sunlight and shone with every possible shade of green. The blonde girl was standing by the easel, looking at the canvas, and a tray with my book, cookies, sandwiches, two glasses and a glass jar full of some red liquid was standing on one of the stairs leading to the kitchen. Eugenia heard me coming, but didn't turn around, so, I guess, she's into her artistic mode now, and it's better not to disturb her. I sat down on the stairs and took my book along with some cookies intending to finish the story that I've been leaving unattended for some days now. I didn't realise I was so hungry, and the pastry was delicious, so I couldn't stop myself from being grateful.

\- Thanks a lot for bringing cookies - I didn't think I was ravenous, but now they are more than welcome.

\- Help yourself, the cherry juice is also nice, - the girl didn't turn around. Instead she grabbed the brushes and clutched them, almost breaking them into halves. - I...I just thought it would be nice to take a little snack in the yard, and one moment the table was empty, but the other the tray was standing in the middle of it. It's a strange house, isn't it?

I gulped down a cookie, suddenly losing interest in food and the book altogether. Well, make it a red letter day. I poured myself some juice and took a sip before answering carefully.

\- And it's a strange town. The locals seem to like idioms with animals, especially with dogs and bats, - I eyed her back, waiting for the other shoe to drop. _And it went down with a bang._

\- And we have some lovely lights over the stairs in the hall. Pity they appear only during the sunrise. 

\- Wait, you saw them too?

She turned around, clearly relieved that she was not seeing or imagining things ( _and the feeling was mutual_ ). 

\- I'm so glad, you noticed it too! This is insane! I thought it was you walking down the corridor, but when I opened the door, I saw the director walking down with that...thing floating!

\- And it's not limited to that. Yesterday in the morning I got into the kitchen - perfectly normal, except for the fact that something blinded me as I was walking in and the whole room was in working disarray, but noone was there. In a couple of minutes the breakfast was served, but nobody entered the kitchen. And now both doors leading there are locked, but we somehow get our food. A coffeepot and a cup exploded when Ray-Williamson made me cross, but a new set was in the cupboard in a blink of an eye...

I raised my eyes at the girl and saw her standing pale, looking in horror at something behind my shoulder. A growl growing louder with every second made my skin crawl. Slowly and very carefully I stood up and turned around, my heart pounding with emotion. A large gray-furred wolf was standing behind the fence, just in a few metres from us. It bared his fangs and stared right back at us. At this moment had I been a poet I would have described its eyes as two wells full of hatred and fury, but I'm a teenage girl with nothing but a bag and a glass jar, so I don't have time for this. The easel and brushes wouldn't help either, so the only option was to take heels.

\- Eugie, can you run quickly? - she muttered something undistinguishable. - I'll take that as yes. On the count of three, we race into the house, got it? One...two... ** _now!_**

I don't remember how we stormed into the building or how we ended up in Eugenia's bedroom. My hands still trembled, and I came ro senses only as we've finished barricading the door with suitcases, the chair and the drawer. It seems to become a tradition in this house. The other girl went into her bathroom, looking for something to reinforce the heap, while I tried to peep out of the window, while hiding behind a curtain. The beast was walking along the path around the hedge, not daring to go too far from the backyard. I turned back to the room and shook my head as Eugenia emerged from the bathroom with a questioning gaze.

\- It's still there, but, at least, it's not trying to break into the house. 

\- What shall we do? 

I bit my lip, realising all the possible consequences. To hell with it, we can't process it on our own. I took my phone out of my pocket, scrolled down the contact list, till I've found the right one and hit the call button.

\- We need a piece of advice from someone who's an expert in fantasy and, irrationally, is also unbeatable at rational thinking. Molly?


	5. Making the sparks fly

Mind-numbing silence went on and on, setting my teeth on the edge, and every moment of it was so much worse, than if Molly were shouting at us on top of her lungs. She was puzzled at the beginning ( _to say the very least),_ as I briefly introduced the girls to each other and and haltingly reassured Molly that neither I, nor the blonde girl are high or pranking her. And knowing Jones, after such opening words she was torn between calling Peepaw to drive her here or psychiatrist to check what the hell is wrong with her best friend. But I knew that the best parts of story were yet to come, so internally I prepared myself for her unsettling reaction, and right now I knew what this silence meant: her inner fantasy fan was squealing with delight, eager to find out more juicy bits, but her rational part of being was highly sceptical and currently was making a "cuckoo" sign. And honestly, if I were her, I suspect my reaction would be much, **_much_** worse.

Eugenia's face became even more pale, even though it hadn't seem possible. She was staring in horror at the screen, terrified that she has just opened up about bizarre events to a complete stranger over the phone, but even more scared of the town we were left in for the summer. Molly still hasn't uttered a single word and I felt as if were surfing during a stormy night. I need them both to be on the same wavelength with me, so that we could find a way to navigate through this situation, otherwise we'll all fall into dark waters of distrust and disbelief. Ok, you think we've got a few screws loose? Well, let's show you who is really on the loose.

\- Hang on, I'm going to video call you, - before Molly or Eugie could object to it, I switched the conversation mode, hoping that my hands wouldn't tremble so much from anxiety and tension that I would drop my phone on the floor altogether. With a few more seconds to go, I turned to the blonde and held out my hand.

\- Eugenia, listen, there's something strange going on here, and we need all the help we can get. I want to show her the backyard, are you with me on that one?

For a moment I thought she would back down, but like a scared fawn she raised her eyes, looked into mine and made a decision. We shook our hands, and as the phone beeped, telling us that Molly has answered the call, my housemate straightened up, balled her hands into fists and held her chin up. I gave her a small reassuring smile and turned to my gadget. As soon as Molly's concerned face appeared on the screen, I knew that her rational part was in a hand to hand combat with her inner fantasy fan, and we don't have much time to get them on board. Jones wanted to say something, but I interrupted her.

\- We'll show you the backyard. Eugie, can you hold the curtains like this? Thanks. 

I switched the camera and carefully moved the camera closer to the window, as Eugenia peeked on the screen over my shoulder, holding the fabric with one hand, itching to see Mol's reaction. Thankfully ( _as strange as it may sound_ ), the beast was still roaming around the house, so it got caught in the lens in its full formidable glory.

\- Well, it definetely _is_ a wolf, though there's a forest behind the house, so it's logical that it _may_ come close to the camp, searching for food. And yes, Ali, it is large, but, franky, I don't see anything that could be classified as remotely dangerous or eerie, so...

\- _**What on Earth have you forgotten here?**_

A deep, powerful and menacing voice bore down on the room out of the blue, making me jump from the window and frantically turn around as my heart leapt into my mouth. The bedroom was empty and the barricade holding the door was intact, but where did the voice come from then? It couldn't have been a game of my imagination, could it? 

\- Not here! There, look! - Eugenia thrust me back towards the window behind the curtains and raised my hand with the phone, as the thunder of a growl roared getting under one's skin. The animal was now slowly backing down with his fangs bared without taking his eyes off _Ray-Williamson who was standing a few metres away from it with an orb levitating over his open palm with a barely audible sizzling sound_. Molly muttered a weak "What the...", but nobody paid any significant attention to that, as we threw our discretion and caution away and flattened our noses against the window to get a closer look, with me still holding my gadget upwards. The morning orb glowed softly, eminating warm white light, while this one resembled a ball of electricity with tiny green lightnings shooting out of it now and then, clearly not bothering the director. Despite the fact that we could not see his face, after a couple of days under one roof I could perfectly imagine his tell-tale expression that could force anyone to run like hell, cross an ocean on a yoga mat and hide on an uninhabited island. 

**-** _**I'm tired of repeating one and the same thing that you refuse to understand. The fairytale has come to an end, and they will not be a part of it. Leave, or those vehicles will not be the only things to burn to the ground.** _

The orb darted off, and landed a few inches away from the wolf's front paw, bursting into a fluorescent green swarm of lightnings as soon as it touched the ground. The animal whimpered and leapt back as a few of those burnt its neb, leaving several flaming red masks that must have bled as we could clearly see them even from the distance. Someone gasped, and my free hand automatically went to my cheek that started hurting every time I made a sudden move with my jaw. Ouch. If my scratches can give such a headache, I can only imagine how _that_ feels like. Wait, what? Since when have I started caring for a dangerous wolf that scared the hell out of us and could have attacked us?! _Because you doubt that this is an ordinary animal. Because you know you got caught in the middle of something strange and now you know better than to trust everything you see._ Why on Earth am I starting to reconsider our choice and let my second thoughts be my voice of consciousness? _Because you hate the man more than you hate the wolf_. At least the petty part of me never fails to provide an explanation. I cast a quick look on Eugie's face, and her sympathetic expression told me that we shared same doubts.

The animal started running away and I tiptoed to see where it was heading, but the branches of trees got in the way, so I lost the sight of the wolf. Slightly disappointed, I turned my attention back to the yard below to see just enough to make my eyes pop out. The place where the orb landed reminded me of that one time when I tried matchmaking when I was very little ( _Got my hands on a matchbox, slipped out in the garden, wanted to roast some marshmallows, got the grass on fire, decided to extinguish it with gasoline, got my ass roasted by my aunt. And got locked out of the garage where I took the gasoline from. BUT, a handsome firefighter paid some compliments to my aunt, so that was a **massive** win_). The bare patch of burnt soil looked like a thorn in one's flesh, and the sheer sight of it made me slightly reevaluate my behaviour with the man. Cups are fine, a burn is worse, though, so the next time I'm being snarky, I'm probably doing this standing a mile away from him. Or standing a bit closer, but with a fire extinguisher and in a full gear. Meanwhile, as the man has turned around and disappeared around the corner of the house, a strained voice made us come back down to earth with a bump.

\- What the _fuck_ was that?

\- The camp director.

\- The sunshine, - Molly's face on the screen reflected a whole storm of emotions, although I could bet that mine wasn't better. Eugenia looked at me, seemingly perplexed.

\- Why do you call him "sunshine"?

\- 'Cause he's Ray-Williamson? You get it? Ray of shitty sunshine? - I tried to explain it awkwardly, but none of the girls was actually impressed, and for a couple of seconds they tried to grasp it, till Mols broke the silence.

\- I feel like I do have to apologize for her sense of humor.

\- Traitor.

\- No. Just an intelligent and rational person.

I honestly don't know how long I could have beefed with Molly in an attempt to get some normalcy in the middle of chaos, when the voice we knew all too well came from downstairs.

\- Miss Carnagen! Miss Lyons!

Damn! Speak of the devil. The sunshine ( _yes, I'm gonna stick to it, unless they come up with something better_ ) wanted to see us, and ignoring him or pissing him off was definitely not an option. _At least till I learn how to make a proper stand against him that would be better than exploding porcelain_.

\- Ummm, Ali? Can you give me a hand with this heap? 

Someone, please, make a note saying "Stop hatching your wagon to a star" and carry it in front of my face. It's not the time to fix our wagon, although the wheels haven't come off it yet, so testing the waters and holding a meeting afterwards is the best option. Eugenia has already disassembled some parts of the barricade, and after I muttered apologies for having my head in the clouds, together we pushed the drawer back to its place and pulled the last suitcase aside. Before going downstairs, I turn back to Molly who had been typing something furiously on her laptop for the last couple of minutes.

\- Mols, we're going downstairs, so I am going to hang up, record the talk and then send you the audio file, deal? 

\- Hang on a sec, why can't you hide your phone in your pocket, so that everyone hears it all without ending the call?

\- Can you guarantee you won't start insulting and threatening him if he's rude to us again?

-...no.

\- Exactly. Molly, we really need your help, and we also need an ace up our sleeve. I can bet you, he will smell a rat if we tell him that this whole situation doesn't bother us at all or that we don't see anything suspicious. At the same time he has no clue about you which means that his unawareness of outside assistance plays to our advantage. I'd like that to stay like that at least for a little bit longer, - I bit my lip, holding some words, praying that these arguments would be enough.

\- Can you promise me not to kick against the prick?

\- I give you my word, - with a faint smile I simply hope she won't press the case.

\- If you don't call or text me back in 15 minutes, I'll call your local police.

\- Love you too, Mols, love you too, - I pressed the red button, started voice recording and went to Eugenia who was waiting in the corridor for me to get downstairs together. 

Ray-Williamson was sitting in one of the armchairs in the ground floor hall with such a haughty look on his face, that he was making this night's sharpies look like pleasant people. _Vampires, Ali, vampires_. Although my gut tells me that one day I'll get back to this particular bloody topic, vamps were the smallest of my concerns, the biggest one definetely not facing us in a completely unnerving manner. No, sir. Don't mind the twitch, we just recalled the wolf and your orbs, but the atmosphere is not unnerving at all.

\- Oh, I see you have finally decided to grace me with your presence, - _one cheek and two knees already scratched, Ali, don't get the other cheek in trouble_. - On the other hand, of course, it would take you longer to find some time for someone so undeserving as me, seeing that you've taken up a new job. Do you enjoy your work as a landscape designer, miss Lyons? I'm sure, miss Carnagen has shared a great deal of flora knowledge after her immense one-and-a-half working day experience. Are scattered oil paint tubes a new trend now? - _no, but punched out teeth will get in vogue in a second or two_.

\- We left our things because we were running away from a wolf! - the other girl took a step forward trying to explain our behaviour, but I didn't like where it was going.

\- There was no wolf in the garden, so if you try to shift responsibility, you're not going to achieve anything.

\- She's telling you the truth! There was a big wolf behind the fence... - his behaviour was too much for me to hold my tongue, but apparently, the camp director was having none of it.

\- There was a big bad wolf, a lonely grandmother and a girl in a red cape in a fairytale and in your imagination, miss Carnagen. I will have to keep an eye on you, seeing the horrible influence you have on miss Lyons. What's with your face?

A big bad wolf might be big and scary, but it was a little girl who led to his downfall. You want to play "see no evil - hear no evil - speak no evil"? Perfect! Two can play this game.

\- Fell down the stairs in the morning. I am sure you would have been of great help, but thankfully you weren't here. Have you solved all the issues concerning the town?

\- None of your business, miss Carnagen. Get your things from the porch, there are no servants here, and you are supposed to learn how to get on on your own. And, yes, miss Lyons, be more careful with your _painting equipment_ , - the man spat two last words and smirked nastily. - It tends to get destroyed when left unattended.

A tangible vibration shook the room, and I turned my head back just to see Eugenia barely refraining herself from attacking the man, as her nails dug into the palms of her hands, leaving painful crescents. Before anyone could even open their mouth, the blonde stormed out of the room through the front door, slipping a yelp just a moment after. And everything because of this smug, deceitful and arrogant son of a ... The wolf didn't even enter the premises of the mansion, so there's only one person in the whole world who could do that and right now he was staring at me waiting for my next move. Without a word I got out of the house, banging the front door as hard as I could. 

Eugenia was sitting on her knees, shivering and sobbing, holding wooden pieces of what must have been brushes or easel. Her used-to-be-neat artist bag was messed up, with paint smeared all over it, and some of it had gotten even on my bag that was lying aside. It seemed to be the only thing in visibly good condition. The pieces of torn canvas still wet with priming were lying around on wooden planks, adding a final touch to a horrible scene. The table and chairs behind us rattled as another more powerful quake made the whole house tremble. 

\- Eugie... - I put my hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off and ran back into the house, before I could finish the phrase. Cursing, I grabbed my bag, hurrying to catch up with the housemate, but the entrance was now blocked by a tall, broad, obnoxious figure.

\- I hope, you realize how rude that was of you. Making miss Lyons cry in just a few seconds. Have you established your own personal record of disappointing people? - _I hope the door hits you on your way in, you conceited ass_. Down with biting my tongue policy, I can't put up with him.

\- The destruction of personal things was rude and hard to bear for Eugenia. And don't you worry, try as I might, I will never challenge the standing champion of disappointing in this town, - I could have smiled sweetly just to get in his nerves, but I didn't have time for it. - And now, I'm sorry, I have to talk to Eugie.

The man didn't move even for an inch - he raised his eyebrows and spoke in such a tone as if he was talking to a hopeless idiot or dim-witted child. _He must have had a good practice of it, speaking to his own reflection in a mirror_.

\- Are you indeed expecting me to let you barge in after all you've done to poor miss Lyons? As the director of this camp I am responsible for physical and mental health of all those who stay here. You, clearly, are a threat to your housemates, so I suggest you take a walk around the town to let your steam out and to ponder upon your behaviour.

In a blink of an eye, he retreated into the house, and before I could slip back into the mansion or at least block the door, I got locked out of the camp. I tried to push, pull and tug the door, but the damn thing wouldn't budge. Losing all the hope, I ran back to the yard and tried the kitchen door. Maybe, he forgot to lock it or Eugie opened it... Drats! Rattling, but not opening. Exasperated, I kicked the stairs, and would have started throwing pebbles at Eugenia's window if not for a sudden " _ **beep**_ " out of my hip pocket. _**No more memory available for the storage of media. The audio file was recored and saved into "Voice Recording" folder.**_ Good grief, I've forgotten about it! Hitting the play button I checked what got on tape. To my surprise, the phone recorded every single detail starting from the moment we went downstairs right till my cross-talk to sunshine on the porch. I chose another folder and hit the button " _create a group chat_ ". _Name_... All right, not feeling too creative, let it be Witchbridge. _Add contacts_ : Captain Jones, Eugenia. _Create_.

_**Witchbridge** group chat was created!_

**Ali** : audio file.

 **Ali** : That big head and little wit kicked me out of the house to "cool down"! I'm going as far from the house as possible, will call you when I'm far enough.

Another message instantly appeared on the screen.

 **Captain Jones** : roger that.

I quickly typed another message to the housemate, saying that I'm sorry for what that oaf had done to her equipment and asking her whether there was anything I could do to help. Everything on the porch was beyond repair, but, maybe, there still was something I could give her a hand with. _If she still wants to see you._

Shaking my head, hoping that it would shake away these thoughts out of my head, I took my bag and left the mansion grounds, heading to the centre of the town. I looked around, searching for some distractions, but the voice of consciousness had no intention to lose the tail. _Were you realy right when you got Molly into this mess?_ I asked for her advice. I didn't asked her to come or to take on the task of stopping Ray-Williamson. _You know all too well that she will be here in an instant with all the farm and what not, trying to protect you._ I told her to stay there. _Will she listen?_ Yes! I gave her a good argument! _But you didn't tell her the other one_. But I didn't tel her the other one. We piss Ray-Williamson off, but he doesn't cause us any direct physical harm. He takes his anger out on equipment, but he didn't send us back. _He did send you on a walk._ He didn't send any orb flying straight into my back. And he had found out about the short day at the store. He needs a cover as a rude, unpleasant, yet plausible camp director, and for that he needs us healthy and alive on public display. We may fight back, show our teeth and make snarky comments, but as long as we play the fools, upholding the image of the camp, we are more or less on the safe side. But the others... The memories of the animal's wounds were still fresh. And that was, probably, a werewolf. Who knows what he might do to Mols and her family? She's safe while she stays where she is. Should I tell her that I worry about her safety, she would pack her things and hop on the nearest cow, horse, unicorn or even dragon and get here. Till we figure out what is really going on here, I'd better keep this close to my chest.

Absentminded I hadn't noticed how I reached the main square and crossed it. There were some people on the square, looking at me suspiciously, and it wouldn't be a great idea to start shouting about a fishy place in the middle of its downtown. I vaguely remembered that there should be a lake or something up the street on the left of the king's statue, so it might be worth a try. 

Thankfully, there was noone at the lake shore, though it might be connected to the dark, almost black storm clouds gathering high up in the sky. There was no cover here in case it started pouring, but I was too far from the mansion anyway, so in for a penny, in for a pound. ~~Or rather in for a puddle, in for a cloud-burst~~. My phone buzzed.

 **Captain Jones** : you fine?

 **Ali** : Yes, I'm fine. Can I call you both?

 **Eugenia** : Can we do it without video?

 **Captain Jones** : anyone else in there?

 **Eugenia** : No, just not in the best mood.

 **Captain Jones** : got it. btw I'm sorry bout the paints. and the other equipment.

 **Eugenia** : It's nothing, wasn't your fault.

 **Ali** : Are you sure, you're all right? Take all the time you need.

 **Eugenia** : No, thanks, I'm fine, really. It was just the last straw of a very long and strange day.

 **Captain Jones** : hitting you then.

I put my bag on the shore, got cozy and answered the call as my gadget started buzzing again.

\- Captain Jones? Again? You're kidding me.

\- You earned it, Mols, and rightly so, - a wide grin appeared on my face, and I threw a small pebble into the lake.

\- Are you a captain of a team, Molly? - Eugenia was snuffling a bit, but I was glad to hear that she wasn't crying anymore.

\- Yes. No. Unimportant. - before Molly could change the topic, I couldn't help but tease her a bit.

\- She's crushing on this pirate captain from the TV series, and they share the last name, so captain Jones it is.

\- And what have I done to deserve such a friend?

\- Picked on my humor and my nicknames.

\- And after saying those out loud, you're still telling me it's not _that_ horrible?

Eugenia's laughter interrupted our banter, and I felt relieved that she was in a better mood now. 

\- See? She agrees with me. All rights, ladies, if everyone's fine, let's get down to business, - _to defeat the Ray._ \- While you were chatting with mister Charming, I surfed the Internet, and I have found some juicy and yummy bits of info. First of all, someone from the locals has uploaded a video of the night fire and the fight on Instagram with a hashtag #stakesraised. 

\- Hit the breaks, Mols, "stakes" like a risk or stakes like a... - I shifted uneasily on my bag, trying not to get my jeans dirty meanwhile.

\- There's no interpretation of the phrase in description, so everyone may read it in any way they want.

\- Was there anything else on the page? - Eugenia's voice was concerned and focused, and Molly's answer ahd a background of furious typing noises.

\- Concerning this particular night - no. The username is nathang56. There's not so much to get out of the profile itself either. Its picture is just a photo of a field, nothing personal uploaded on the page. Besides, whoever the owner is, they use only a couple of hashtags: "witchbridge", "summer/spring/autumn/winter" choose whatever season it is on the photo,"youth" and a couple of "goldworth", but I can't find what that is. Although, the main question for me is not even the identity of the person behind that field photo, but how did noone else notice the allegations? They were standing there like it was no big deal.

\- Maybe, they're used to it. Or they know it all along.

\- Could be, chipmunk, could just be.

\- Chipmunk? - Eugie sounded amused. _One-one, Molly_.

\- Have you ever seen her eating? - Jones giggled, and I facepalmed.

\- Okay, I munch on my food and stuff my face when I'm hungry. Very funny. Have you found anything else?

\- Meanie. As a matter of fact, I have, - another click over the phone and Jones went on. - You said that your families sent you both to the summer camp?

\- Yep.

\- Yeah, the artistic summer camp...

\- Artistic? The only thing the sunshine has down to a fine art is insulting, - I was so surprised I've almost slid on the hard ground.

\- And he didn't even want me to get all equipment into the mansion on the first day! He carried everything else, but refused to take easels, paints and all the other stuff, - from what I heard, I could assume that Eugenia started pacing up and down her room.

\- Are you ready for a surprise? - Mols made a pause for what was probably a drum roll and delivered. - I haven't been looking for a really long time, but from what I can see right now there is no official summer camp in that town.

\- **What?**

\- Not a single one. Neither artisctic, nor regular. There's a church, a museum, even a school, a kindergarten and a college, but there is **_no_** summer camp in Witchbridge. Give me more time, I'll dig deeper and tell you the results. Do you know, is anyone else coming?

\- Probably, can't say for sure...

\- There must be. When I asked him upon my arrival, he told me that several people are yet to come. At least one person should get here soon. 

\- Ask them, how they found the camp and then send me the link, if possible.

I was about to reassure Mols, when several sounds interrupted me: someone yawned loudly, and Meemaw shouted in her stentorian voice " **Who locked Cooper in the henhouse?** ". I snorted and giggled a little, just as apologies arrived.

\- I'm really sorry, I was so upset that my head started aching, and I had to take the medecine which always works like a sleeping draught on me.

\- No problems, Eugie, I also didn't feel that great during my first days there. Try to take a nap, maybe it will help.

\- And try not to oversleep dinner. Ali, what are you going to do? Has it started raining?

\- No, the sky is still dark, but it hasn't poured yet. I think, I'm gonna take flyer and go on a stroll around the town.

\- Text me, when you get home. And on that note I have to excuse myself and find a plausible excuse why that dog was stuck in the henhouse. Gotta run!

We exchanged goodbyes with Eugenia and I hit the red button. The wind was picking up, and the storm clouds laid siege to the sky of the town. Something thick, unintelligible was in the air. It wasn't an omen of something like the night events, rather an anticipation. It was almost tangible, reaching up to the sky and sizzling like one of sunshine's orbs. Everything was shouting that something was coming, but nothing dared to whisper what exactly. I cast another glance on the dark green waters of the lake, adjust the shoulder straps of the back and headed back into the town centre.

I have to admit that one certainly can lose their way in Witchbridge for the first little while without a map, but I'm never saying this out loud with Ray-Williamson nearby. At least I had an opportunity to get to know the streets better as I was racking up the runs around the town. I saw a couple of cozy blocks with nice little squares, similar to the one where the florist's store stands. There's a nice borough with a church and some administrative buildings, but the neighbourhood next to it looked unexpectedly posh for such a small town. I even wandered to the street where the car burned in the night, though had I not known it for sure, I would have never guessed it. The area was clean as a whistle with no traces of incident left. A white plague was hanging on one of the houses, and when I saw it, I took my glasses off, wiped them and put them back. _Coal street_. No comments.

Another circle around the town and the digits on my phone screen show that I've established a tradition of missing dinner on the odd-numbered days. I can spend my evening away from the house, but I'm not that eager to try my luck and spend a night outdoors. Grubling and sighing I returned to mansion, trying to look as confident as one could be. It's really good for the image, so hold your chin up, maintain a tall back and try not to tremble, 'cause your clothes are not suited for the weather. Thankfully, the front door was open, so I had no problem getting into the house. After locking the entrance I got upstairs to check up on Eugenia. Her room was off limits this time, as she didn't open the door. Taking into account the sleeping draught effect of the medicine she's taken, she's probably fast asleep. I texted her a message, telling that I'm back and will be in my room, should she need me, and went to the said bedroom. 

Everything was laying in the right places, and nothing suggested an intrusion of any sort. I looked through every corner nevertheless, and, satisfied, locked the door and pushed the drawer to it. Better safe, than sorry. Especially in this house. Right now, I have to deal with another concern: my stomach mashed against my spine. The dinner was over and the kitchen would, probably, still be closed. Maybe... Nope. That's insane, isn't it? _In this mansion_? Well, let's give it a try... I cleared my throat and spoke out loud, feeling like an idiot. 

\- Hey... I know, I missed the dinner, and everything must have been cleaned at this point, but... Seeing that you can send the food to the dining room, can you send it here, if there's anything left, of course? Just this one time?

No answer and the consuming feeling of awkwardness. Well, at least I was alone, there are no witnesses. So, no, sir, I have no idea, who was it talking or what is _this tray doing on my bed_. A metal tray with a couple of full plates, a cup of tea and the book I'd left in the garden and forgotten to pick up later, were proudly placed on the covers of the bed. I poked at them several times, but they didn't disappear, so... bon appetit, I guess?

\- Umm, thank you!

Nothing followed, so I carefully sat on the bed, trying not to spill the tea and dug in. Whoever is cooking, they do it perfectly, but I still had some doubts about the tea, so I decided to take a little sip at the beginning. Yep, just as I thought. Refreshing green tea and the light aroma of jasmine combined with all the sugar one could get in the vicinity. Someone has it in for me. 

I pushed the tray with empty plates and almost full tea cup aside, and went on again. 

\- Thanks a lot once more! You're a lifesaver, - _well, let's give it a shot_. - And sorry for barging in on that morning. Hey!

Someone pulled my ponytail, but noone was behind my back. While I was spinning around, the tray disappeared and only my book was left on the bed. Well, that went fine. I just hope that my apology was accepted, but, I'll likely find that one out in the morning. After a quick shower I felt all the events of the night and the day coming together and I could barely keep my eyes open. Practically crawling out of the bathroom, I got into the bed, grapping my phone and the book on my way. There were no new texts from Mols, so I sent her " **Has Meemaw found out who locked Cooper?** ", suspecting that she did indeed and now Mols was surviving the consequences of her actions. Putting the gadget off, I turned the nightstand lamp on and opened my book, when a thought formed in my head.

He was simply holding his hand with his palm up, and the orbs were floating. Soo, what would happen if I tried to do the very same thing, focusing just like a did in my dream? Close the book for now, hand forward, palm up. I thrust my hand forward, emulating the man's stance and stared at the space above my palm. Focus, Ali, focus. Once more. And again. And again. In all the books the main hero does something like that in a blink of an eye, 'cause for them it's easy peasy lemon squeezy. Well, life has certainly given the second part, but what about the first? 

I huffed, and puffed my cheeks so much that the scathed one started hurting again. Drats! All right, let's try another tack. I shut my eyes so tightly, I could see tiny colourful dots dancing, and imagined that there was a glowing orb floating above my hand, just like the one Ray-Williamson had in the morning. After a few seconds, I cracked an eye open just a bit, to check whether anything was happening. Spoiler alert, it wasn't. I felt exhausted, confused and as angry as hell, 'cause the damn thing didn't want to appear! Another round then. I closed my eyes again and concentrated, probably puffing like a weight-lifting hedgehog. I just can imagine how hard would Mols laugh should she ever see me whuffling, sitting on the bed, wearing pjs, with my hand thrust forward and eyes closed. I mean, who wouldn't? The chances are that I'd get at least a strange look or a laxative. Down to earth, Ali, try once more.

The bright dots started going tango and salsa this time as I closed my eyes, and my hand suggested than clapping, playing the guitar or finger cymbals would be much more appreciated than remaining in one position. My back backed it up. The voice of the opposition grew louder, but I only shut my eyes tighter. After a while, some of the dots quit their chaotic ballroom dancing routine and started swirling together in weird spirals, signalising that someone'd better go to sleep. For God's sake, Ali, it's already buzzing in your ears. Sizzling to be more exact. Well, it was still worth a try. I opened my eyes and at the very same moment got a bone in my throat. A small lilac ... _thing_ was flickering above the palm of my hand. The man's orbs were stable and sphere-like, but whatever was levitating in front of me looked more like a little sparkler. It burned for a moment as a tiny firework, but went out with a rather loud bang like a failing light bulb, making me jump. Only one thought was occupying my mind, as I sat there, staring into nothing. I made that thing. _I managed to make that thing_. **_Holy cow, I made that thing! I_**... **Shit!** I woke someone up.

The sound of footsteps came from the upper floor. Eugie's in the other wing, so there's only one person who has apperently decided to pay a visit to us, mere mortals, to find out what the hell was going on. Lights off, cover on, eyes closed, breath normally. Breath normally, my ass, I did that flicker! The only thing that stopped from jumping into a happy dance was the noise made by a person going up and down the corridor. All right, think about the book you can't finish for a couple of days already. Think about the Shades, dragons, an ancient sword and the Patrician's palace. Think about the great wings in the sky, imagine the ringing of the bells and the shouts afterwards, telling the citizens what time it is. Satisfied with my very first success and lulled by the sounds and landscapes of Ankh-Morpork in my imagination, for the first time since my arrival here a few days ago, I have drifted off into a sweet, deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

\- You're kidding me! No waaaay! Oh my... This is awesoome! - Molly's voice, flushed with excitement, filled the bathroom through the speakers of my phone, as I was dramatically failing to brush my teeth and comb my hair at the same time. My neck and my back were sore, because falling asleep doubled up with your head on the book instead of a pillow was not one of my greatest ideas. Although, neither that, nor the fact that I should hurry up in order not to get late, didn't ruin my mood. I wrote to girls about the sparkles, describing everything in detail in the group chat first thing in the morning ( _and that's exactly why I was running a bit late now_ ), and called Molly (' _cause she would never let me get away with a single message_ ).

\- Are you sure he didn't notice you? - an engine of the car mingled with Mol's voice, while she was running errands around the farm with a laundry basket in one hand and Jason's old phone in the other. This one had no camera or a normal Internet connection (what is expected of a phone found nearly on the attic), but hers was confiscated after Meemaw **did** find out who locked Cooper in the shed. 

\- He got down from the second floor, but he was pacing up and down the hall later, so he probably couldn't tell what it was or, at least, who did that. So, I'm still on the safe side, I hope. What's up on the farm? - I fastened my braid with a hair tie, and ran back into the bedroom with the phone in my hand, throwing open the doors of the wardrobe, as in the background Mols chirruped about the new neighbour, a cute dress she saw yesterday and a new computer game they were going to install on Jason's computer. It had already been pouring when I woke up, and the weather seemed to just build up. A sweatshirt and denim overalls will do the trick for the clothes, but I'll need something rubber to keep my feet dry. Preferably, a boat.

We chatted a bit about a hill of beans while I was tying the laces of my trainers, till we both got pressed for time and had to say our goodbyes. Charger, another hair band, a pen and a notebook... Seems like I've got everything. I locked the door behind me and ran down the stairs, noticing some new interior changes in the sitting room. An umbrella stand with five umbrellas was placed next to front door, although the space next to entrance was dominated by a suitcase and a couple of bags. Good to know that our numbers have increased! A breakfast for two with a small note was served on the coffee table, and muffled voices could be heard from the dining room. The note read " _For miss Carnagen and miss Lyons_ " written in the handwriting of our dearest not-really-a-camp director. And the voices...I snuck up to one of the doors as closely as I could without the risk of being seen through the stained glass and listened carefully. Ray-Williamson must have taken some measures to prevent eavesdropping, 'cause I couldn't distinguish what was it all about, much as I tried. _Argh_. Fine, what can I find out from what I have right now? It was definitely an argument and a heated one - the voices rose with every passing second. The first one definetely belonged to the sunshine, but the second one fit an image of young girl, who didn't agree to whatever he was telling her. The more, the merrier. I absentmindedly looked at the clock on the mantlepiece, still trying to make out some words. 7:50. _Oops_.

Quickly turning into a hamster, I finished the fried eggs that lied on my plate, took my bag along with the first umbrella I could see in the stand, and ran to the store, going round the growing puddles. 

The downpour scared at least a half of the visitors away, but missis Robinson has decided to upgrade her design for the competition which meant that contrary to the number of visitors, my workload didn't shrink. I hummed an earworm as I was running between the rooms cleaning vases, trimming flowers, refreshing the water and giving a sugary formula to the arrangements, so I didn't instantly notice the texts on my phone.

_**Witchbridge** group chat_

**Eugie** : We've got a newbie! Her name's Charlene, she's from Denver. She likes ballet and baking, but she doesn't like the director.

 **Captain Jones** : whoa, hang in there? how did you find that one out so quickly?

 **Eugie** : She didn't like the place, had a row with Ray-Wiliamson in the morning, but her family reacted strangely and didn't take her back, even though they still were in the town at that time. She was so upset and angry that she didn't want to stay in the house, so I took her to my working place. 

**Captain Jones** : don't you all work at the same place?

 **Eugie** : No, everyone gets her own. I got place in the local library, Ali - at the florist's, and Charlene will get something else tomorrow.

 **Captain Jones** : you got a job in the library and there's no reaction from carnagen? let me check just one more thing.

_**Captain Jones** changed the username to **Molly** _

_**Molly** changed the username **Ali** to **Chipmunk**_

**Molly** : yep, just as I thought. no reaction. she's not online and will get a couple of surprises later.

 **Eugie** : Probably :D

 **Eugie** : BTW, Ali, I need to go to the post and ask them whether they have home delivery here. Mom agreed to send me a new easel and some new brushes from home, do you want to go with us during your lunch break? Ray-Wiliamson actually told me that we have our lunches arranged in the local cafe, so we can go there after the post office.

I rolled my eyes and changed the usernames back before typing a new message.

 **Ali** : Sounds like a plan to me! Everything fine at the camp?

 **Eugie** : Yep. Nothing strange this morning, so I didn't tell Charlie anything.

 **Captain Jones** : imho, it would be better to keep quiet about all the supernatural things at least for now. form what I see, she will soon witness them first-hand, but without proofs you risk sounding like a couple of lunatics. that's coming from someone who had to deal with these stories yesterday before actually seeing it all.

 **Ali** : Agreed. 

**Eugie** : Perfect. Gotta run. See you at 14.15 at the post!

Time flew past, as I put the orchid plants on ice, perfecting the floral centrepiece, removing the packaging and playing with my pug of the best and the most favourite client, so at 14 o'clock sharp I went out of the shop for my one hour lunch break right into the still pouring rain. From my evening walk the previous evening I knew that the post office was situated near the main square, so I could pretend that I'm a local one who doesn't need any map and can reach any place she wants in 10 minutes. Someone was already inside the post building, but I could only see vague figures in a large building window though the cloud-burst, so I went in, soon regretting I didn't turn some epic music on, if I got into the limelight in any case. 

Baffled Eugenia was standing next to a tall brunette in a black dress who was pursing up her mouth and gripping the umbrella handle. Over the counter a beautiful dark-skinned girl with her hair in a high puff was standing with her arms crossed, and almost... _growling_? A guy with short fair hair was standing between her and the girl, who I presume was Charlene, as if trying to pull them apart. Great. How high are the chances that a girl working behind the counter of the post office is a werewolf? In Witchbridge? _Pretty damn high_. As if hearing my thoughts, she turned her head to me and bared teeth in such a grin that I had no more doubts about who she really was.

\- And here's the third one. Strange that you've gotten out of your shelter without her in the first place, - her tone was all sweetness, but her voice were all venom. 

\- Kailynn, stop. I'll answer their questions, go, - the guy tried to push his co-worker away, but she was having none of it.

\- Shut it, Hayden. Why on earth did you even come here? You've come up with some condolescences after a couple of days? Should I give you a medal for that? And I thought lame mediators were still better than this chaos, but look at it now! They do what they want, set our things on fire, closed the access to Goldworth, and you do nothing!

Set our things on fire? Out of all her speech I understood just that bit. It must have been her family's car, but how could we prevent that accident? It's my fourth day in the town, but the things go from slightly strange to downright bizzare at a speed I could have never imagined! And what did she call us?

\- Miss, I think there's been a misunderstanding, - I stepped a bit forward, earning a furious look from Kailynn and a worried one from the guy. - We came to the town a couple of days ago, one of us has arrived only today, as we were all sent to a summer camp. I don't understand what you're talking about, and I'm sure neither do my housemates.- Eugie's shoulders dropped with relief and the other girl nodded and gave me a small smile, before speaking for the first time, since I've stepped in the post office.

\- We're here just to ask about the home delivery and that's it. And we're not those... mediators?

\- Oooh, the home delivery, - Kailynn smirked and went on sarcastically. - Well, you see, when people come to the place others call home to fulfill their task, they should _deliver_. Idiots.

And that is where you cross the line. The guy started shaking his head frantically and pulling the girl away from the counter. I felt anger bubbling in my chest, as a dormant volcano was ready to erupt. Eugenia opened her mouth to object, but our housemate didn't give her a chance - Charlene started shaking like a leaf and went disturbingly pale. However, as I stepped closer to ask her, whether she was fine, and Lyons dropped her handbag, ready to catch the girl should she fall, Charlie raised her head and spoke in a strained voice that was much, **_much_** deeper that the one we've all heard before.

\- Watch. Your. **Language**!

 _And the image of the outer world cracked and exploded into thousand pieces_.

* * *

_And another grain has fallen onto the scales._


	6. In my dreams

-...and I'm not gonna put up with that! Who the hell he thinks he is? I mean, yeah, he is the director of the camp, but that still doesn't give him the right to treat us like that! Besides, this place doesn't even correspond to what they put up on the site! - a couple of people turned around, frowning, and an old man in a few tables from us muttered something about the youth nowadays. - Jeez, I'm sorry if I'm too loud, but I can hardly take it in, and I always strart going nineteen to the dozen when I'm nervous or excited, and that post office has thrown me off my stride... and... and what the heck is this all about?

Charlene has stopped waving hands and blazing away her indignation at the sunshine and Witchbridge in general, and looked at us desperately, failing to wrap her mind around the situation. I exchanged glances with Eugenia, bouth not really sure what to answer. _Relax, honey, those are just werewolves?_ Or _don't worry, be happy, you'll get used to it?_ Eugie took a deep breath and started calming down the brunette sitting across the table, while I bit my lip and pondered upon how to put mildly the fact that the post situation was kinda normal for this town...

* * *

 _And the image of the outer world cracked and exploded into thousand pieces_.

 _A chilly, unceasing gust of wind burst into the post office through a broken window, and I was just hoping that it was the strong flow of air that gave me the chills. Countless shards were scattered on the street and only a few of them landed inside the office, and thankfully, it seemed that noone got injured. Rain drops blown inside by the wind were promising to form the same puddles as the ones reigning the alleys of the town. Charlie stopped trembling, but didn't cease taking quick, deep breaths, like a bull that has just run a New York City marathon. Well, mess with the her and you get the horns. I was now supporting the girl who was still trying to wither the speechless couple behind a counter with a look, as I got the questioning glance from Eugie who nodded first to the girl and then to the door. Though the brunette seemed to be more stable than a few minutes before, my first hand knowledge has told me exactly how misleading it can be, so it would be better to get Charlie out of here till another coffeepot explodes. But before I got a chance to pull the brunette out of the post office, a rapid movement caught my eye and I swore myself that one day I'd make a big sign reading "_ Cross the bridge as you get to it, so don't make haste, Ali _" with a smaller footnote "_ Sod the rule if you're facing an angry werewolf: quickly sort your business out and make a run for it _"._

_\- Have you gone bezerk? What on Earth have you done? How am I supposed to explain it all to the manager? You can't rebuild what's broken, so you just go and break whatever's still standing? - Kailynn darted to the broken window with the guy at her heels, though the latter one stopped and turned to Eugenia to check whether everything was fine. - Is that what he taught you? That mediators are supposed to take the side of those bloody, wretched..._

_Charlie's body strated trembling again as did the glass surface of the counter, and I was pretty sure than getting shards out of you body is worse than disinfecting a scraped knee._

_\- Miss, I'm terribly sorry, but as far as I am_ a-were _, there's been a misunderstanding, - I stepped forward between the two dark-haired girls and the glint in Kailynn's eyes and tension in the guy's stance suggested that they caught my drift. - We arrived a few days ago and even though we did see the fire a night ago, we hadn't taken any side, and as far as I even remember we've never even crossed our paths before. Besides I've never heard anything about those... mediators or whatever it is. I'm sorry if our appearance here has caused you any inconveniences, - ~~a broken window, Ali, be honest, even if they earned it and you feel no remorse~~. - but you must have mistaken us for someone else, - if they have a bone to pick with someone, they shouldn't take the steam out on everyone they see. _

_\- And we are really sorry to hear that there are some issues going on in the town that are putting everyone on edge, but we meant nothing bad by coming here, - Eugenia picked her bag from the floor and tried to iron out the wrinkles, looking incredibly upset. - If you don't want us to be here, we'll simply leave the office and won't disturb you anymore._

_This didn't seem to extinguish the fire entirely, but the level of hostility certainly went down a few notches. The dark-skinned girl and her (uuuh, probably?) boyfriend looked more mazed than black-hearted as they exchanged glances with each other. All right, I think it's high time we went somewhere else before someone twist the knife. I stepped back to check up on Charlie. She was a bit shaken up, but otherwise she seemed fine as I cleared the throat and pointed (I desperately hope so) discreetly to the door. A small smile and a tiny nod, good, we're on the same page, now we just have to figure out why is she looking so strangely at something behind my back as soon as I started hearing some bizzare sniffing? Can anything stay normal in this place? Drats, Ali, just turn around and..._

_- **Jesus Christ!** \- I came face to face with Kaylinn, who was nosing out something just in a couple of bloody centimeters from my face, looking really confused._

_\- Alright that's enough! - Charlene has pulled me backwards by my overalls, as Eugenia moved forward to join our duo. - I don't know what's gotten into you, but you have no respect for customers, no respect for her private space, nothing! You've gone too far and turned a simple question into a circus of madness! You step any closer - I'm calling the police!_

_The post office workers didn't say a single word, as Eugenia led me and Charlie out of the building straight into the closest cafe we could find, while I followed her with my brain on autopilot. Whatever regretrs I had concerning a summer spent far away from my aunt, they have doubled in the span of four days spent here. Everything told me that there's an equation, waiting to be solved, right in front of me, but my brain told me that each and every of its variables is unknown and written in some kind of elfish runes. Right now I see only two solutions: either everyone in this town is mental (_ and this theory seems to be really credible _), or I'm missing a term in this mathematical problem. And the fairy folk locket on my neck is not much of help, 'cause right now I'd be glad to hear an explanation of all this even coming from a pixie, a gnome or a talking elephant. A horse, a horse, my kingdom for ~~a horse~~ a supernatural Google. And that name... Goldworth. I've heard it somewhere, but what was it? My head was buzzing with memories of all kinds, yet the one I was looking for kept playing hide and seek. Everything was in a mess in the Oblonskys' house._

_Deep in my thoughts, I didn't notice when the girls picked a table, shove me to it slightly, placed me on a small sofa and even ordered the drinks. I came back to my senses when a smiling middle-aged waitress brought us three plates with cakes and our beverages. We thanked her, and as soon as she left us, Charlie took her phone out, while Eugie started pushing the plates to each one of us._

_\- Here you go. I didn't know what you like, you looked awfully concerned, so I ordered a piece of chocolate cake with some cherries and a cup of tea for you, - the blonde smiled as she moved the said food closer to me, and waived her hands as I took my purse out of the bag. - No, no, no, Ali, no. The cafe has an arrangement with the camp, remember? We can come once a day and order whatever we want, it's all good. Come on, put that thing back. You're fine?_

_\- Yeah, sorry for zoning out, I was just... a bit overwhelmed. And thanks a lot for the order, - I gave the girls an apologetic smile, and they returned it with the reencouraging wide ones._

_\- No need to apologize, it's all right. My sister's also a teeny bit of a daydreamer, so I know one, when I see one. Oh, we weren't really introduced, - the brunette hastingly pushed her coffee glass aside and thrust her hand forward for a handshake, speaking more and more rapidly with every moment. - I'm Charlene Thomson, just call me Charlie. Sorry, I didn't introduce myself back then, that window smash and the workers' hospitality have thrown me off._

_\- Don't worry, no big deal. The name is Ali Carnagen. I'm really glad to meet you, - we shook our hands, trying not to knock over Eugenia's soda. - I have seen a coffee pot and a cup exploding out of the blue in the camp the other day. The place is really weird, - the blonde girl noddled to me and carefully eyed Charlie's reaction. Being blunt won't get us anywhere, but dropping some hints may give us a ride to the point, where we would be able to discuss everything freely. At the moment, every ally counts, especially one that lives under the same roof with you._

_\- Weird? Oh, I don't think! Just a summer camp with a hella rude director, who believes he has the right to insult me, my family, and everything he sees! He behaves like a slimeball and I'm not gonna put up with that! Who the hell he thinks he is? I mean, yeah, he is the director of the camp, and still doesn't give the right to treat us like that! Besides, this place doesn't even correspond to what they put up on the site! - a couple of people turned around, frowning, and an old man in a few tables from us muttered something about the youth nowadays. - Jeez, I'm sorry if I'm too loud, but I can hardly take it in, and I always strart going nineteen to the dozen when I'm nervous or excited, and that post office has thrown me off my stride... and... and what the heck is this all about?_

* * *

\- Frankly? We have no idea what is going on here, - Eugie moved a strand of her hair from the face and put her fork aside. - We don't know the locals - only Ray-Wiliamson, Ali's boss, but I've only seen her once, and my boss whom I got to know only this morning. A day ago we saw a fire not that far away from the camp - a car was burning and a shed exploded, but we don't know the owners or the ignition cause...

\- Hold on, was that the car that girl was talking about? Back in the post office? And is she blaming you for not doing anything?! What are you, firefighters? Jeez, she needs to set her record straight, 'cause... Oh my God, I'm so sorry!

Heave up the anchor, all hands on ~~deck~~ napkins! Charlie got too excited and accidentally spilled the coffee on the table. Eugie took all the tissues we had on the table, and we started wiping it all away, but as there was still a lot of liquid on the surface with all the napkins gone, I started looking around for anything that could help us. 

\- I'll ask the waitress for some tissues, just wait a moment, deal? - I stood up carefully, trying not to get into the drink, and made my way to the counter, all while the lady returned to her working place after serving an order.

\- Anything I could do for you, love? - the woman shone with joy and friendliness that were so damn hard to find in this town.

\- Um, we've accidentally spilled some coffee, and there aren't any more napkins at our table...

\- Oh, sugar! Did anyone get hurt? - her gaze became worried, and she quickly put a towel away, ready to spring into action, but I hurried to calm her down.

\- No, ma'am, it was some kind of ice coffee, so noone got burnt, - the waitress has visibly relaxed, and her air of hospitality and cordiality immediately has found its way back. Now I just have to... _Oops_. _What's her name?_ She must have introduced herself when she took our order, but I got a brain freeze at that time. Ugh, I have to work on my concentration issues. Well, let's play it by the ear. - I just came to ask for a couple of tissues to wipe the rest of the liquid off, miss...?

\- Just call me, Daisy, love, I'm not that old. Wait here, I'll get a rag and some new napkins, and we'll fix your trouble in no time, - the lady winked at me and disappeared behind a door on her left. I took a look around, while I was at it. Most of the customers have started packing their things away, as the lunch time was running out, and I made a mental note to hurry up. The showcases were loaded with delicious-looking cakes, sandwiches and snacks, and a fridge was stuffed with colourful cans and bottles of soda. Daisy left her notebook and pen on the other side of the counter, right on the _newspaper with the sunshine on the front page_. I moved a bit closer to see whether my eyes were not playing tricks on me. Ray-Williamson along with some other people was standing on the steps of a building behind an attractive woman in a smart suit. The title read "Goldworth hanging on a thread", but the font of the article itself was too small to distinguish.

\- Here I come. Took me ages to find those napkins, - cheerful Daisy emerged from another room in full gear to fight any speck that dared to appear on the table.

\- Oh, great! Umm, can I take a look at the article? I'll give it back in a minute. I just haven't seen it before, - I fidgeted from foot to foot, praying that Daisy would have nothing against it. One lead, even one lead would be enough. I held my breath waiting for her answer.

\- Sure, go ahead. I can imagine how much of a pest your director is, so don't hesitate to ask fo anything you need, love, - being literally this close to squealing in delight, I took the newspaper she offered me and followed her, burying myself in the front page, as the waitress manoeuvred through the flow of the customers.

Well, well, well, what do we have here? _...Coppervale...ground shaking...occupational hazard...North Peak...sealed off for an investigation...mayor's concern...public unrest...miners' protests..._

I took out my phone and snapped a quick photo of the article, and opened the Interent icon. While Daisy was getting rid of the coffee stains, I typed a couple of words into the search engine and skimmed through the results.

_...North Peak - the biggest coal mine in Witchbridge, workplace of skilled miners..._

_...pay a visit to a museum dedicated to the history of Goldworth - the second oldest mine in Witchbridge that is still operating..._

_...don't hesitate to contact Coppervale mine administration for further details..._

_Witchbridge is a town in Montrose County, Colorado, United States. Founded in 1879 by Robert Witchbridge, the town heavily relies on the mining activities..._

Well, now it's all as clear as a mud-spattered windscreen. Still, I thanked Daisy as I returned her the newspaper, and finished my cake, while the girls were discussing of a romantic comedy of some sort. The clock hands showed that we didn't have any more time to waste, so our trio packed our things, said goodbye to the busy waitress and headed back to work downthe rainy streets. I was nervously gripping the handle of my umbrella, trying to come up with an excuse to bring up the matter, before we part our ways, but Eugenia stayed ahead.

\- What was that newspaper all about, Ali? You seemed concerned.

\- More like frowning and focused, - Charlie leaned a bit forward so that she could see me better.

\- I saw a photo of Ray-Williamson in that newspaper.

\- What?!

\- Why would he be there? Is he a criminal? Is he someone important? Is he a superstar? 

\- No, Charlie, I doubt the last one, - I chuckled and slightly shook my head. - It was above the article on the most burning issues of the day of Witchbridge. You remember that thing that Kaylinn, the girl from the post office, mentioned?

\- Gold-something...

\- Goldworth, yes, - I jumped over a puddle and stepped closer to the girls, stopping as we got to the crossroads, where we had to go separate ways. - From what I understood, it is the only one of the three mines in the town, that is still operating. Two others were closed not so long because of the strange ground shakings. Apparently, almost half of the town, if not more, is employed in the mining industry, and with the rumours of the third mine closing, it is only logical that everyone is on edge. The photo description read that the city council had gathered again, but couldn't reach a decision, as they were still lacking one member and reached a deadlock.

\- Woah, woah, stop right there, - this is the ~~first~~ ( _porch tremble_ ) _**fine** , second_ time I saw Eugenia that angry, - Are you saying that they are blaming us for not doing anything about mine closure because of some unexplicable seismic activity?

\- Yeah... - I stiffened the urge to back away, as the fire in the blonde's eyes didn't promise anything good.

\- What... How... Urgh! Have they gone bats? - _not their division, I'm afraid. Rather the lights are on but the dogs aren't home_.

\- Girls, - Charlene stared at her phone screen in pure horror, - I'm really sorry to interrupt you, but when was the last time you checked your phone, Eugie, and why is your boss calling me?

Our housemate went pale and frantically got her own gadget. 5 missing calls. _Oops_. 

\- I think, we'd better hurry, - Charlie nudged Eugenia, who froze, all while still looking at her missing calls list, and they turned right, while I took the first left, rummaging in my backpack, looking for my earphones.

The store was flooded with women whom I identified as missis Robinson's friends, so I snuck into the back room and pretended to be occupied for 15 minutes, before I could put the earpiece in my ear and press the call button. The hushed whispers and occasional laughter from the main part of the store served as an indicator that the owner and the visitors were too preoccupied with their conversation, and I could speak freely as long as I kept my voice down.

\- Yes, Jason, it is an ugly dress, and there's no way in hell that I'm wearing that! Sorry, Chipmunk, I'm trying to get rid of a hideous clothing item, yet my cousin isn't going down without a fight.

\- Oh, but our old sea dogs always cross swords with some opponents, don't they, captain? What's the new matter? - Jones' family bickering was all the way better than mining discussions, so I tuned my ears.

\- You remember that Ratt family? Their farm is not far from ours, and they are hosting a party tonight, but Meemaw won't let me wear any of my dresses! She thinks they're way too short, so she offered me to wear one of those that she used to wear when she was young. I didn't even know we still had them. Two turned out to be moth-eaten, but the other one is in a perfect condition, and now Jason won't let me cut out tiny holes in it to say that it was also eaten by a moth, " 'cause it's our heritage, Molly"!

\- Well, let him wear it, if the dress is so dear to him, - I chuckled and cut off some dry leaves. - Or sneak out in one of yours in the evening.

\- I've thought about that too. But Peepaw warned me that he's not in the mood for a new fence or a new instalment of natural fertiliser, - long story short, check what is inside a container, before you sneak it out of the shed and dump the contents on your bed. It might not be your confiscated hair dye. On the bright side, it was summer, and Mols slept with her windows wide open in any case. Although I can't recall even a single time when Molly's sneaking out in the middle of the night didn't turn into an adventure.

\- Oh, now he did cut off the route of escape. Maybe you could mess a bit with the temperature. You know, the dress is old and dusty, it needs washing...

\- That is... a good idea, actually, - I could see Molly's grin even from another state. - Might give it a hot. Jaaasooon! Where did you put the laundry detergent? Perfect, he's off looking for it, the coast is clear. Have you met the second girl? Opinions?

\- Well, we did meet, she seems fine. However, I'll postpone sharing my opinion, 'till I get to know her better. The only thing, I'm positive of, is that you can easily tell when she gets emotional - she starts talking a mile a minute. Oh, that and the fact that she doesn't like sunshine. 

\- Duh, not surpised _at all_. Anything else?

I pricked up my ears, but the ladies in the other room didn't even seem to notice that there was someone in the workshop area. Nevertheless I lowered my voice and went on to tell Molly about all the events in a whisper.

\- She _sniffed_ you? And blamed _you_ for mine closures? 

\- I know, right? And the thing is that the article described ground shaking, but I haven't felt any of those since the moment I came here!

\- And what about those that happened when that creep destroyed Eugie's equipment? You said that the whole house trembled.

\- The dates don't coincide. Two mines were closed before our arrival, so we have nothing to do with that.

\- I don't like it, - _same here, but what exactly are we talking about?_ \- Seismic activity near mountains? What the hell are they even thinking? What does your aunt say?

\- Pretty much nothing. She hasn't called me ever since I went to Witchbridge, - I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, adding the background noises, while I was putting open ranunculus and peonies in the cooler. 

\- Aunt Wendy hasn't called you at all? What about Eugie's and the other girl's parents?

\- I don't know, - huh, I haven't thought about this. Have I ever heard them talking to their family, apart from that Skype call? Although... - Hold on, yes! Eugenia's mother suggested that she sent her some new equipment. That's why we went to the post office in the first place.

\- That still doesn't explain Wendy's behaviour. Do you want me to call her? I can pretend I forgot what camp you are in and I can't get through to you.

\- Can you do it?

\- Consider it done, Chipmunk. Oh, by the way, send me the photo of that article. Maybe, we can surf the Internet and look up some new info on the matter, and discuss it later. Deal?

\- Deal. Call me anytime, _especially_ if you get your ass into a new adventure at the party!

\- Seems like you're responsible for that this summer, - Molly laughed. - Ciao!

Out of sheer curiosity I tried calling my aunt and my mother again, but the automatic voice didn't tell me anything new. At the same time, I send messages and call Molly whenever I want without any problems, so my phone isn't broken or playing up. And that's not like aunt Wendy. Every family is _terra incognita_ to an outsider, and even though ours is more like a _terrarium,_ I get on pretty well with my mom's sister, and she should called me on the very first day to check whether we got to the camp safely. Let's wait and see what Mols can find. 

But that wasn't the only thing on my mind. There's something fishy about those mines. Molly's right, if the ground shaking is strong enough to halt the work of two enterprises, why isn't the whole population evacuated? The town isn't that big, it must have been felt by everyone, but I haven't seen any shelters during my walk around Witchbridge. And why is Ray-Williamson on the town council board? He's not an integral part of the society, noone out of people that I've met here seems to like him at all. What's more, the camp is too small to provide enough money to keep a house like that, and it doesn't look like he has any other job. I wonder, what does he do in the afternoon, when none of us is at home? Why are there dozens of prying neighbours, when you try to do something discreetly, but none, when you need their surveillance skills?! If only there were some CCTV cameras on the streets...

\- Is everything OK, Ali? You seem incredibly focused and puzzled, - _**Goodness, people, loud footsteps!** That's all I ask for. Otherwise, I'll grow gray hair by the end of this summer. _Missis Robinson was now standing in the doorway, looking at me curiously. There was no chatter to be heard from the other room, so I must have missed her friends leaving. But...how can my back look focused and puzzled? She saw me only from the back. I'm pretty sure we should add another species to the list: Homo Witchbridge or Homo Veneficapons. Very suspicious and tricksy. _I think it's better to pretend that I didn't pay attention to that_.

\- Oh, I just was thinking about the new arrangements. I thought, we could add some colour to them?

\- But that's marvelous! - missis Robinson smiled and flung up her hands. - We have a big commission for the next week for a wedding, and I'm sure that we could use some of your creativity. Try to put your thoughts on paper, dear, I'll take a look at them whenever I can.

With these words she turned back to the main store, and right till the end of my working day nothing went out of hand. Normal visitors, some of the regulars, roses, daisies, soils, pruners and wrapping paper all resumed their whirling dance, and I didn't even notice when the time has come for me to go home. And just as I was ready to dive into the back room, grab my things and leave the store, with a out bang I recalled a proverb about the bridge and its crossing. One of the perks of an umbrella is that you can pretend that it's a sword. One of the cons of such a sword is that is has no sheath, and you have to mind what you are waving it at. A man made a thousand and one excuses, but the process of collecting the shards of a broken pot, replanting the ficus and sweeping up the floor ensured that there was no way I would be on time for dinner. Thankfully, it wasn't completely over yet as I entered the house after swimming down the streets, and I prayed that the sunshine would skip this meal as well. 

_Christmas comes but once a year._

\- Now I might have to go and buy a lottery ticket, seeing that miss Carnagen has finally decided to pay us a visit. Would you like us to bring in your crown and your throne? - _a jester's cap from your head would be enough_. He's smirking in front of me, Eugie is finishing her plate on the left, but the seat on my right is still empty.

\- Where is Charlene? - I turn to the blonde who seems to be worn out after the first day at work.

\- She didn't feel very good. She went home not so long after the lunch, and she's sleeping in her room, - _one is an accident, two is a coincidence, three is a pattern. Why is everyone turning into sleepyheads on the first day of their stay here?_

\- Oh, I see. Are you fine? 

\- Yeah, it's just that an archive is really large, and miss Cameron gave me a lot of files to sort out, so I ended up running back and forth. And I am definitely not ready for that kind of exercise, - _I feel you there_.

\- Wouldn't have been that hard, had you engaged your brains, if you have any, and optimized the process, - now look at this mister Nice Guy. What a paragon of charm and good manners. Where's another coffeepot? - Still, I heard no complaints, so I guess, you were tolerable, despite all my doubts on the possibility of that. Now let me excuse myself, I have better things to sort out.

To my greatest pleasure he left the room after the short brag, and the door didn't even have the chance to hit him on his way out, as his plate vanished into thin air. Eugenia stared at the place where his dishes were, while I couldn't bring myself to be that surprised or shocked. Honestly, with all this stuff going on, disappearing plates seem fine to me, as long as noone tugs my hair again. Eugie, on the other hand didn't agree with it.

\- Have you seen it?

\- Yep. Pretty decent after "friendly" werewolves, if you ask me.

Well, at least she stopped zoning out and looked at me astonished, before shaking her head and sitting back.

\- Gosh, that has been a long day. I can't even feel my legs, and thinking about all of this only gives me headache. I think I'll go to my room and try to draw something on my laptop. God knows, we need to brighten up.

I sent her a smile and wished her good night before she went out of the dining room, and soon I followed her example after finishing my foos, but not before thanking whoever cooks for us aloud. Maybe, this time will be more effective, and they won't turn my tea into sugary abomination.

Up, up, up, and to the left. The room seemed untouched, just like yesterday, so at first I did my best to take after the blonde housemate, solemnly dedicating my time to chilling out and relaxing. It took me much longer to finish the book, than usually, as some of the nagging questions danced wild cancan in my head. Ugh, stop it! I'm a teenager, I'm in a summer camp, I have each and every right to relax! Stop concentrating on some weird shit, Ali! Still, I couldn't sit still, and my Instagram feed annoyed me beyond measure, so after a while I gave up. Fine, let's try making an orb again! The troublemaking part of me gleefully got cozy, when an idea came to my mind. I squealed in delight and anticipation, opened up my wardrobe, touched the "record" button and propped the phone against a stack of my clothes, before going back to the bed.

Soo, yesterday I managed to do that trick after closing my eyes, and some dots that I saw came together, right? What would happen if they join each other quicker? Can I force them to form a group? Well, there's one way to find out. Eyes closed, hand forward, deep breath, focus. The dancing sparks appeared just like the night before, but those little buggers had no intention to unite into a small ball. Instead, they started flying around, like street artists when they hear a siren of any kind. _**Come on!**_ I grit my teeth and shut my eyelids tighter. Ok, let's try catching them one by one. A small green dot seemed to be swirling aside, so I turned my full attention to it. Come on, move a bit closer to the centre... Just a little bit closer... _**Yes! Gotcha!**_ The green spark froze in one place right in the middle, swirling in dissatisfaction, and a barely audible sizzling erupted somewhere in front of me. All right, ladies and gentlemen, who's next? 

I managed to grip 4 more sparks, before I felt dizzy. Drats, that doesn't feel right, abort mission. I opened my eyes and saw a little violet firework floating above my hand. This one lasted longer than the one I made yesterday, but just like its predecessor it didn't form an orb and exploded after 10 seconds. Still, that is some progress already! You go, girl! I stopped recording and checked the video. It turned out that I had been sitting for 4 minutes before the first hint of the flicker appeared above my palm, but it felt like a few seconds when I was concentrating. Huh, there still is some room for improvement, especially taking into account the fact that sunshine was fresh as a daisy after his spheres, and I'm as fresh as the socks of a lacrosse team after a match. To keep the integrity of the test I didn't edit the video and sent it to Molly as it was. Let's see what she'll say when she'll check her mail in the morning.

I could hardly keep my eyes open, so I got into bed and turn the nightstand lamp off, leaving the room illuminated by the my phone screen light. The Internet is full of things you might regret knowing later, but there was nothing on Jonathan Ray-Williamson. No social media pages, no other articles, no videos on YouTube. It seemed that the man didn't exist. How did we stumble on the online camp site? 

The pages of hundreds men with the same name merged into one, as my eyelids declared it was their rest time, and the white light from the search engine home page turned into milky mist over the river of dreams...

* * *

_The fog covers everything, spreading into every corner, flowing and hiding everything in its embrace. It dances around me, dense and strangely confusing, blurring the vision, right till the familiar light appears not too far away. Deep breath, concentrate. ~~A few more of those exercises and I can claim to be a yoga instructor~~. The fog retreats to the sides, as I turn my full attention to the shadows near the light source. A lady in a dress is holding a large rectangular object in her hands. Wait, haven't I seen this one already?_

_The dream is a carbon copy of my previous one, but this time, the shadows look less like cut-outs and more like....like something real. I see small bows and ribbons on the skirt of the lady's dress. Three smaller shadows are far more distinctive today, and I can see that three girls are helping the woman to put the object up on the invisible wall. It stays right up in the air, and two of the girls start dancing around the lady, while the third one sits down and starts playing with something in her hands. I can't see what it is, I have to get closer, so I take a step forward and..._

_...and I am **falling**._

_The milky fog melts away in the velvet darkness, and only the feeling of the wind between my fingers tells me that there is something going on. I manage to somersault in the air, but I can't find a rock, a crack or anything to stop falling._

_It seems like an eternity, and deep inside my chest I feel my anxiety rising. There's no stop, there's no light, just the wind whoosh as I get down, and down, and down._

* * *

Alice followed the White Rabbit. Ali followed the dark shadow. In the end they both flew deep down the hole into the unknown. In their fall they both tried to hold on to something. And in the end they both landed.

* * *

_The landscape didn't change at all, but now I felt the firm ground underneath. I fell right on my bruised knees, and the flashing pain made me shout some very unpleasant things about whoever was doing this and describe what I will do, should I ever find them, getting a bit creative._

_\- Is that how you greet the kin you're supposed to work with, Mediator?_

_A male voice that could equally belonged to my peer, as well as to someone older, erupted out of nowhere. What the hell is he talking about? Mediator? Great, another lunatic._

_\- All right, listen here! I don't know what you're talking about, I don't care about it, just leave. Me. Be. What has gotten into you in this..._

_A sharp pain in my head didn't let me finish the sentence. I felt like someone was forcibly stuffing something into my skull, and all its contents didn't agree with it, but noone asked them. It went as quickly as it appeared, but I sat still, afraid that the slightest move would bring it back again._

_\- Ooooh, this gets fascinating, - the Voice was clearly intrigued, - and just when I thought that you humans can't get any more stupid, you go and top yourself along with those changelings._

_\- What the hell are you talking about?_

_\- Oh, don't you worry, I'm not going to get into your head again, I saw everything I wanted, - and now he was clearly enjoying himself. - And I can't wait to see how it all will play out!_

_\- So you're just going to plague my dreams and be a parasite in my mind? - I stood up and crossed my hands on my chest, getting hot under the collar. - Would you care to explain who you are and why do you think this is acceptable?_

_Oh, now he sees its downright hilarious. His laughter pissed me off to the point where I was ready to stamp my foot, but he started talking again, before I could make a five year old fool out of me._

_\- Let's just say that I'm an unlikely ally who got stuck with you despite our mutual wish. And as I can't get rid of you, and you can't get rid of me, I'd like to be aware of all the things happening._

_\- An ally? - I raised my eyebrow, perfectly understanding that he can see me very well and that I don't believe any of his words. - Do all allies try to crack each other's skull open under the guise of friendliness?_

_\- We're in one boat, Dumbo. You had no idea what you were doing and no separating ritual took place, so now everything that happens to you, happens to me. And no, before you ask another question, I caused you no physical harm by looking into your mind._

_\- Stop right there, - I sat down cross-legged and massaged my temples. - So, you're saying that we're the only ones connected? Neither Eugenia, nor Charlie..._

_\- The other two have no ties, - the Voice interrupted me, getting impatient. - And it's highly unlikely that they will get any. Their magic works the other way around. Any more questions before we part our ways?_

_Great, so I'm the one who got lucky. Marvelous. The commentary about magic was taken as granted at this stage of my stay in Witchbridge, but the perspective of some answers seemed appealing. We are in the same boat after all, so I could at least use some help._

_\- Who are the mediators? What does the other dream with the shadows mean? And why can't my orbs hold together?_

_\- Not so fast and not everything at once, - I could bet he looked as pleased as a dog with two tails. - Your other dreams are hints from your predecessors, Dumbo. Pay attention to the things around you and you will understand what they mean. And as for the orbs... You grip the units with no purpose. You don't know what you want, so you just waste your powers trying to hold still the swirling bits that revolve all around the world in an irresistible torrent. Aim, Dumbo. Everything has it. And everyone._

_\- Wait! You didn't tell me about the mediators! - rays of light grew bigger and bigger, dispersing the darkness and washing me away. He started laughing, as I puddled in the stream of gleam, till the sound of his Voice wasn't replaced by the other beeping one._

Another day has begun.

* * *

\- Yes, sir, I understand the seriousness of the issue, - Ray-Williamson was all smiles as he talked to someone on the phone during breakfast. Charlie sat on my right and her eyes were glued to the director. No less than 10 minutes ago the man announced that due to the protests on the main squares of the town she and Eugenia may not go to work today. Sunshine didn't tell what post he secured for Thomson, only letting slip the fact that she will be working in the town hall.

Eugie was less concerned with a possible day off. Instead her gaze was fixed on me. After a night full of dreams I forced myself to send an audio message to the group chat, but I didn't realize everyone would be wide awake at that time and that the blonde girl would storm my room right away after listening to it. We called Molly and together they peppered me with questions, leaving the room (or disconnecting) and letting me to take a shower only after they made sure that I was fine except for the feeling of poor sleep. Still, Molly made Eugenia promise not to take eyes off me and to let me sleep in her room this night. I don't know how we will have to figure that one out, but I would lie if I said that I wasn't grateful.

Still I picked at my plate and felt like shit, so when sunshine announced that the girls should stay at home at least for lunch or for the whole day if the protests won't stop till midday, but I was free to go, I was glad to get out of the mansion and dive into the usual working rhythm. Or so I thought.

The strike has turned the whole town upside down and the store turned into mayhem, as only a few visitors came there to buy flowers. The other 98 percent of all the people flooding the shop were eager to share the details, scold the authorities or simply watch the show. On the brighter note, that gave me an opportunity to eavesdrop a bit. The rumours had it that there was another ground shaking in the third mine this night, and even though noone felt it, the mayor's decided to close it. The miners weren't happy at all and soon they were joined by the workers of the closed mines in the main square and the archive square.

Some people claimed that it was a foul play to distract attention, because the gold was found in the mines. Others shouted that the mayor's assisstant was to blame as she hated the people and staged the whole thing. They still had one thing in common: noone believed in the ground shaking explanation of the authorities. Countless theories poured into the ears of anyone who listened, and I texted the best of them to the group chat to Eugie and surprisingly sober Molly, who avoided the topic of the party. Seems like another legendary story is on its way.

But the rumours were not the only things filling the space today. A couple of women came to missis Robinson with tearful eyes, and she did her best to comfort them. They were the wives and the relatives of the miners, whose were afraid that something awful might happen to the workers when they get in the nerves of "that bitch". One of the other visitors later explained me that they meant the mayor's assisstant. My boss calmed them down and told them that there was nothing to worry about, but I couldn't hear her further arguments as she spoke to the women in a hushed voice right till they left the store. The feeling of helplessness hang up in the air even after that, so I took the opportunity to talk to missis Robinson, when noone else was around. 

\- Is there anything I could help them with?

\- Don't worry, child. You're doing everything you can for this town, and we appreciate that. You can't even imagine how a bouquet of flowers may change the evening, and you've made some lovely arrangements today. 

\- But I'm not doing anything important. Some may say that I'm not doing anything at all...

\- Ali, listen to me, - for the first time since our first meeting the woman's intonation became serious. - You are a young girl, who came here to gi to a summer camp. Whatever's going on is not your fault and not your problem to solve. Until you gain all the knowledge, all the power and the experience you can get, promise me you won't interfere in this whole affair. Their grudges run deep, and they won't even look at you, put they would throw all responsibility on you, so try to stay away from this for now, till you get stronger, deal? 

She hugged me and returned to the main room, where the swirl of visitors took the store by storm. The turmoil didn't stop till the evening, and I only had a quick break when Daisy dropped by with a couple of cakes for me and missis Robinson. That was a pleasant surprise amidst the chaos, just as a text from Eugie that she and Charlie are making some pizza and we're going to eat some and to watch a film as soon as I get home, which has lent me wings to get to the camp happy. 

Sunshine was nowhere to be seen, so I ran up into my room, threw my things on the bed and was about to go look for girls, when a sudden movement caught my eye. Someone or something was behind the fence of the backyard, but the tree branches didn't let me see it clearly. Drats! Now how can I... _The landing on the second floor._ It's higher, but it still has the same angle, so I should see what it is without anything blocking my view if I hurry up.

I stormed out of the bedroom and ran up to the upper floor, panting and skipping some steps. The hall there was empty so I stepped to the window and tiptoed to see everything better. A dark animal was walking along the gates. I couldn't see whether it was a dog or a wolf, but something told me that it also had a human form. It certainly wasn't the first werewolf that we saw with Eugenia, as that one was much larger and the fur of this one was much darker. It didn't show any desire to jump over the fence and get into the house - it was simply patiently walking back and worth, as if it was guarding the house. I need to show it to Molly and Eugie, just...where is my phone? I couldn't have left it in my room, could I? One more pocket to check...

\- Are you enjoying the view, miss Carnagen? 

**_Fuck_**. 

* * *

_The birds songs were drowned by the sounds of rallying cries and crossing swords as the troops kept on fighting. And every moment somewhere on the battlefield someone would raise their eyes to the sky and smile at the dawn, reading the signs and knowing that the dance of the scales will soon stop. Knowing that the truce is inevitable. And it's coming._


	7. Dom(e)ystic. Part 1

Someone has once said that your look should always correspond to whatever event is taking place in your life. From my own experience I can add that if you are cornered and the occasion calls for a poker face, make your opponent let their guard down and then use your ace in the hole against that asshole. You want me out of the landing? Let's make sure you won't be there either. I turned around with the most polite smile on my face, doing my best to pretend that I was genuinely happy to meet the man again and I certainly haven't started holding back retching the moment I saw his face.

\- Mister Williams! Oh, how wonderful it is to see you! I was looking for you, - if not for his restraint he would have jumped out of his skin and judging by the way he was staring at me, at that moment he was mentally calling an ambulance. Brilliant. - You see, my aunt is coming soon, and as I've heard so much about relaxing properties of painting, so I've asked her to bring me some brushes, paints and canvas, but I'm afraid that she can't find any easels. Seeing that you are the director of the camp and you are responsible for our pastime, I was wondering whether you ...

\- There. Will. Not. Be. Any. Easels, - ooh, talk about hot buttons. On the upside, as he was getting boiling mad, he was concentrating on this matter and didn't bring up the window matter. Let's keep it going. Innocent face and Bambi eyes.

\- Why not? I'm sure you can recommend me a shop or two in the town. After all, you are a member of the town council, you should know Witchbridge better than anyone.

\- My post and my public position are no business of yours, - sunshine gritted his teeth so hard, I think he might need a dentist after that. - And that painting nonsense has no place in this camp. You will get everything dirty, from the floor to the ceiling, and I don't suppose that your mother would be eager to pay for the cleaning company services.

\- Not a problem, I can paint outside. In the backyard. We have some lovely scenery back there.

\- Out of question. The backyard is full of... - his bravado was cut short as it must have dawned on him that " _the big bad wolf was only in your imagination, miss Carnagen_ ". Well, let's see you weaseling out of this one. - ... of chemicals. We have too many ants in the garden this summer, so I have used a lot of insect repellant. It's not safe to be out there.

\- I'll come there later, when it wears off.

\- Your aunt can't come. There are no more rooms suitable for living in this house.

\- She can always stay in my bedroom.

\- Impossible, the room is way too small, - Ray-Williamson was doing his best to keep his tone neutral, but I could see his face getting red and veins bulging. 

\- Not a problem, she can stay at a hotel then. Would you recommend any? I mean, you've surely been living here much longer than we do...

\- **_Enough! -_** oh, so a dentist and a glazier, apparently. On the other hand, the window glass didn't follow the footsteps of its post office sibling, but it was close. - **_Get out of here,now!_**

At this moment I would have liked to make sure that my eardrums were fine, but the look of the man's eyes stopped me. His fury was bubbling on the surface, and I didn't want it to boil over on me, so I turned around and started going downstairs. After all, I've seen what I wanted, haven't I? Even though the sunshine sneaking up in me from behind was unexpected, what is to be expected from a brute who bolsters his self-esteem by insulting others? _Slamming a fucking door so hard and loudly that you'll miss a step and will almost fall on your face._ Well, I think I nailed distracting him, even though his further reaction scared the crap out of me. And, as it turned out, out of other people too.

\- Molly, could you please stop shouting in my ear, - Eugenia was standing at the landing on the first floor, talking on the phone and looking at me, when she sighed and tilted her head, - Molly wants you to know that "you go, girl!", "he is a suspicious dick and you can quote Molly on that", and a bunch of other stuff that I'd rather not repeat out loud. Bear with me, Ali will get down in a second, and we will put you on speaker.

\- Where's Charlie? 

\- She's in her room, tries to call her sister - Eugie pulled the door as we stepped into her room, and my best friend's voice filled the space as soon as the blonde switched the call mode on her phone.

\- ...I mean, I can only imagine how steaming he should be, so keep it going, Chipmunk! Ooooh, what would happen if you realy drew something inside the house. Now that would be a fit to remember! Jeez, I was calling to say that I've looked up all the information I could find on Witchbridge, but the only useful thing I've found was an address book. Nonetheless, I've sent it to you, Chipmunk, so check your mail box. By the way, Ali, where's your phone? Is everything all right? 

\- Thanks, Mols, - I smiled and felt warmth in my heart. I would never ever fully describe how important Molly's help and support were for me, especially now when one could start questioning whether it was all real and not a dream. Cheerleaders who rally the fans come and go, but it's the people, who cheer you up and are ready to become a leader of the mob to defend your interests, that become the friendship keepers. - We really appreciate your help. You can't even imagine how great it is to know that there is someone who can give you a hand and a shoulder to rely on in this town, - the blonde girl smiled and nodded in agreement. - And sorry about the phone, I must have left it in my room. I saw something near the fence, so I went upstairs to see what it was and that's when sunshine appeared. 

\- Oh, it's still there, - Eugenia stood up and looked out of the window, - It's just going back and forth behind the gates. To be honest, this one looks far more peaceful, than you know, - she shrugged a bit, - the previous one.

\- It's still too close _fur_ comfort. Either way, I distracted Ray-Williamson, so he won't blast it with another orb.

\- Not really following you there, - Molly sounded perplexed, questioning the chice that I've made. - I thought, it was just another clash between you two, but why would you stop him from solving the issue? At least there would be just one weirdo on your tail.

\- Yeah, as well as another reason for them to throw hands with us. And it's gonna be more reasonable this time. There's something going on here, and I can't help feeling that we're missing something. But still, there's not so much we can do about it right now, so we can at least try to do what we can.

\- Ali, listen to me, - Molly's voice became calm and low, like she was preparing for a long and serious conversation. - I know that tone. I admire that you're ready to help them and that you don't want this to go even more sour, but there's no point in jumping on the front line, not knowing how to defend your ass. The sparky thing is impressive, but it won't stand a chance against the fangs or electric balls. Ali, putting your fingers in the fire won't bring you any good. If they want you on your side, they have to help you to figure out the situation. 

\- I'm with you on settling the differences before we get to the bottom of this, but I'm also with Molly on not rushing headlong. I actually have a theory, - Eugie came closer and I leaned on a bed post, listening to her, - we all have felt not well some time after arriving here? And during our first nights we were so exhausted we slept like logs? Not to mention that not a single one of us has ever shown any magical abilities before, so I think we could find some clues in the house. I believe, we can find the keys to all doors somewhere if we rummage through the drawers. I've overheard Ray-Williamson, he's going to pay a visit to the mayor this weekend, so it's our chance to find the truth!

\- And what about Charlie? - Mols sounded a bit muted, as she started pacing the room up and down by the sound of it.

\- As I see it, she's not a big fan of sunshine. I mean, who really is, - I shifted a bit and kept on. - We can always say that it's a strange house with all the doors locked, so we're going to take a look and find out what really is going on in this place. She's as suspicious of the camp as we are. Besides, if we find something extraordinary, it might be the push for her to grasp and accept everything that's going on in Witchbridge, and a chance for us to put all chips on the table. Aand, speaking about taking our time... Missis Robinson has give me a piece of advice today, when I asked her what else I can do to help some of the people coming into the store. She said that I should first learn, get stronger, and only then dive into all this mess.

\- Ha! I'll wear that...that new baseball cap for a year if she doesn't for sure what is going on in this place.

\- Molly, I've never seen you wearing a baseball cap, - _I've tried to rake up my memory, but she's always said she hated them..._

\- I know, it's Jason's. He's won another one of those at the party, and this one is _garish_. It's as if we don't have the whole wall covered with caps, and it's not the first thing I see in the morning when I walk out of my room. I'd give it out to someone for free, but this is a good opportunity to get rid of it. 

\- Well, I don't have any baseball caps to bet on, but I can also bet my stylus that your boss is fully aware of the situation. We could come to the store and try to talk to her, together with Charlie. By the way, about Charlie... I think, she already suspects something, - Eugenia tilted her head, pondering upon the situation. - I mean, there's snowball's chance in hell that she doesn't. After all, it was her who made that window explode, and Ali dropped some hints about her accidents, while I showed her that clash video this morning.

\- Are you for real?

\- What did she say?

\- Charlie went all silent for a while and than muttered something about their vocabulary. She was shook, but then Ray-Williamson came in to announce that we are stuck home today and that miss Thomson can take an opportunity and try cooking something in the kitchen. Apparently, she was sent here to spend time in a culinary school of some sort, so he gave her the choice to try and not to poison anyone or to let the camp's cook do the job, and that's a quote, - the blonde girl winced, having to recall another meeting with the local prince Charming all over again. _Now I have to admit, sunshine has a talent. Repelling everyone around himself certainly is one._ \- But after that Charlie took the challenge and didn't bring up the topic - she just pretended that everything was fine, even though I could see that it was all forced. 

\- Then you've sorted this out. Take a look at the house, drop some clues for Charlie, talk to the boss.

\- I can even try and show her that thing that I can make... - I bit my lip, before voicing the thought that was lingering in my mind. - But we'll need to persuade her to wait for some time, 'cause it doesn't come easy and I look really weird while doing that.

\- Umm, Ali, - Eugie started tugging her sleeve, before she raised her eyes and asked nervously, - Could you repeat how do you do that? It's just pulling all the lines to the centre, right?

\- I see it more like sparky dots, actually. It's like a disarray of sequins, - I stood straigt as it dawned on me, - Hang on, you see that as lines?

\- Yes! - the girl shifted on the chair, visibly much more comfortable with us talking it all through. - When I close my eyes and concentrate, at first I see weird figurines, just like everyone does, but then the lines appear. They pulsate a bit, and some of them cross each other, but when I try to pull them all together, nothing happens! I've also tried recording myself, you know, in case I missed something. Ha, as if!

\- I think, I have a possible explanation for it, - Molly seemed perplexed, but she went on, as we got closer to Eugenia's phone to hear everything better. - As much as I don't like admitting it, I think that voice from Ali's nightmare did give us some hints. Look, first of all, he said that your magic is different, right? That's the answer on why Eugenia can't follow the same technique - there must be some other methods that will suit her. She even sees other shapes! And secondly, he was also right about the purpose. Imagine that you have a lighter that you've painstakingly learned to turn on, but you've got no idea what do do with it after it was lit. You're wasting your time and gasoline. The same here - you're getting tired, but your results can't even hold together. That's why, my darlings, as soon as that weirdo gets out of the house, get your bottoms of the bed, chair, sofa, whatever, engage Charlie and turn this house upside down to find at least something. 

\- Agreed, - Lyons was solemn and hellbent on getting her answers.

\- By the way, Mols, I've been waiting to ask you how did the party go? Jason's got a new cap, but what about you?

\- Oh, would you look at that? Meemaw has just called me, 'cause...'causeCooperstartedpeckingthelaundrysorryhavetogobye!

\- Wasn't Cooper a dog? - Eugenia looked extremely in flush, as I doubled laughing.

\- He is, and the party has gone South, that's for sure. You've just heard Molly's way of avoiding talking about something. Give her a couple of days, and she'll tell us everything, but before that she'll come up with the most absurd excuses ever. So, what about the dinner?

\- Oh, we've decided to turn it into a movie night in the living room, and have already brought all the trays with the food here! - Eugenia brightened up. - We're almost set, we just need to get three cups for the drinks and a couple of pillows, so everyone could be comfy. Can you bring your pillow and mine as well downstairs before taking the cups from the kitchen or the dining room?

\- Sign me up! - now that's some good news! - Throw me your pillow.

\- Perfect! Catch it! Here you go. In that case, I'll go fetch Charlie! 

Before taking both pillows downstairs I looked for my mobile phone. It was indeed in my bedroom - I hadn't taken it out my backpack. As soon as I grabbed it, I headed downstairs, thinking about the nuance Molly had pointed out. I felt a bit puzzled, now that it seemed that the Voice did give us some useful information. According to him, he had to, 'cause he's stuck with me, but neither Eugenia, nor Charlene were to get any "help" of that kind. And he mentioned some ritual... This reminds me of one of those moments in video games, when you mess up and have more questions than answers, so you have to open the guide. I wish there were such guides in real life.

The kitchen was still off the limits for me, so I had to take three cups out of cupboard from the dining room and balance them on my way to the neighbouring room. The other two girls were already there: Charlie was sitting on the sofa among the cushions and pillows, holding a laptop, while Eugenia was busy with some trays that I hadn't noticed before. As soon as the blonde housemate lifted up the lids the air was filled with savor so appetising, that my mouth started watering and whales began singing in my stomach.

\- Coming right away, - Eugenia smiled and waved at the trays, while Charlie giggled on the sofa. - We have two pizzas and some pancakes. What are you in the mood for?

\- Honestly? Everything, - I chuckled and took another glance at the table. - Wait, are you telling me that you've done it all by yourselves? It looks ans smells incredible!

\- That was mostly Charlie's work, I only helped with some of the ingredients, - the blonde girl shook her head, trying to create three equal heaps on the plates, as the other girl waved it off.

\- Nah, I'm glad to practice more, 'cause something tells me that I'm not gonna get a lot of culinary knowledge in this camp, - Charlene started typing something quickly on the laptop. - Soo, I have an idea - let's watch our favourite movies, so we can talk about our favourite scenes, topics, whatever to get to know each other better?

\- Sounds good to me, - I checked out the beverages in the jugs, - We've got cherry juice, apple juice and some soda. What do you want?

\- Apple juice for me, please. So, Eugie, what's your film of choice? - Thomson ducked out from the laptop with a questioning gaze, ready to find the necessary film in an instant.

\- I can't say that I have a movie that I absolutely love, but I've always wanted to watch Harry Potter, so, I guess, we can do that one?

The glass clinked as I have almost spillt the liquid all over the table, before exchanging horrified glances with the girl on the sofa. 

\- What?! Never?!

\- Are you kidding us? Girl, time for Colorado Rockies fan to rock this night. Charlie, turn the Sorcerer's Stone on.

\- Get over here, I've already found it.

Eugenia mumbled something, as I pushed her to the sofa and Charlene jumped to turn the lights off, before we settled ourselves on the sofa, hushing at each other, when clinking plates, cups or " _You're sitting on my leg!_ " drowned down the soundtrack.

* * *

\- Why didn't the neighbours call welfare department? I mean, look at him, the boy is clearly not all right!

\- Muggles.

* * *

\- So noone is questioning hundreds of children coming out of a shabby bar with owls, brooms and whatnot? Or even them getting there in the first place?

\- Muggles.

* * *

\- Every September they flood the train station, and noone from the staff notices it? Let me guess, muggles?

\- Yep.

\- Eugie, relax and watch the movie! Stop analyzing every detail!

* * *

\- They are sending the kids into the forest full of monsters as a punishment?! 

\- Another slice of pizza for you?

\- Don't sugarcoat it, Ali.

* * *

\- So now he has bars on his window, but still no welfare department check?

\- Do you want some soda?

\- Isn't working, Charlie.

* * *

\- There's an unknown threat in the school, and the most powerful magicians entrusted to teach children decide to pit them against each other to fight in a duelling club, instead of evacuating them?

\- I'm gonna fetch some more snacks.

\- Charlie, NO! Ffffffudge....

\- Ali, tell me, what's the point of it?

\- Well, now the kids can lear how to defend themselves and practice the Disarming Charm?

\- You mean, the students from rivalring Houses that can't stand each other and will probably punch the lights out of their opponent when occasion offers? Where's logic in that magical world?

\- Have ever seen it in Witchbridge?

\- _Hush!_

\- Here come the snacks!

* * *

\- There's a criminal on the loose and they start doing at least something only after the boy flees from his abusive relatives? Oh God...

* * *

Something hard was bumping up against my back, and the stubborn thing didn't disappear, no matter how hard I shifted - it just began _grumbling_? I opened my eyes only to see an unknown chintz design in front of me. OK, Ali, stay calm. _Please, not another nightmare._ Now I realised that I couldn't move my legs, and the pression on my back increased. Take a deep breath, keep calm, and rake up your memory. What is the last thing I remember? Full moon... Snape... Medical wing... The Prisoner of Azkaban! Jeez, the movie night! The clock on the mantelpiece showed well, well past midnight, when we finished watching the Chamber of Secrets, so no wonder we didn't stay awake through the entire third movie. I seem to remember that Eugenia was already asleep on Charlie's shoulder during the boggart scene, but I failed to recall at what moment the brunette and I dozed off on the sofa. Alright, time to greet another day. I crawled a bit and sat up, using my hands to drag myself out of mess of cushions, pillows, hair ties and duvets. Jeez, my legs became so numb, I can't even feel them! Hissing, I turned a bit to see what has squashed me so much, only to find out that I had fallen asleep under the human avalanche. At some point during the night Charlie dozed off on Eugenia, and then both of them in a real-life domino game knocked over the third part who was now quietly cursing and getting off the sofa. I tried to pep talk myself in an attempt to make me believe that I'm a ninja and I can get up without waking the girls up. As I realised later the ninja was very old, tired and could never be bothered even to steal a cookie from an empty kitchen. In an empty house. Still the mission was accomplished with relative success: I did avoid waking the housemates up, even though I made a lot of noise, before I could take a proper look at the place.

Well, technically, I can say that the room wasn't a mess. 'Cause, _technically_ , you would talk about the entire space. I, on the other hand, would talk about the surrounding area without taking into consideration the sofa, an armchair, the table and the floor near them. They weren't a mess, sure thing. They were pure chaos.

Dirty plates, trays, cups, jugs got mixed with chips packets, candy wrappers and crumbles, making it seem as if a dozen campers had spent a fornight here. Trying to make minimum noise, I picked up the trays and the plates from the table. Even if there is a being thar cleans up your dishes, it's still not a good idea to turn the camp into a pigsty house. _Even if there are three pigs under the watchful eye of the big bad wolf._ Fine, enough talk about the pigs, I've seen enough of them on the tablecloth. So, push the door, put what you have in your hands in the sink, bring the other dishes from the living room and wash them - simple plan, isn't it? _Well it would be, if the door didn't stay closed._ All right, let's try fetching all the dirty dishes, maybe then someone will be kind enough to let me bring them into the kitchen. Yup, just as I thought. _Didn't work._ Ugh, that's not fair! Eugenia and Charlene got into the room yesterday, but my status is still "fallen out of favour"? Talk about prejudices. The dirty heap beside me was a woesome spectacle that didn't want to disappear, making me bang my head slightly on the kitchen door.

\- I think, I can help you with this one. It seems to me that Sebastian likes me.

Charlie entered the dining room holding the trash left from our movie night and headed straight to the door.

\- Sebastian, can we come in? We've brought everything from the last night.

\- Wait, who's Sebastian?

The kitchen door flung open, and the trash flew out of Charlie's hands right into the trash can, while the dishes rised form the table and levitated into the sink in a live version of "Be our Guest" from the Disney cartoon. I had to step back, so I wasn't standing in the way of the flying armada which I followed with my bewildered eyes. After a few seconds the sound of a running tap filled the room, and as I peeked into the kitchen, I saw the plates gleefully hanging in the air washed by a sponge that nobody was holding. _Sebastian._ Dumbfounded I turned to Charlene who was smiling nervously.

\- This is Sebastian. I mean, he helped me a lot with cleaning the kitchen yesterday, but I don't think that Eugie noticed it, - her speech speed began rocketing, as she stroked her neck. - Besides, he showed me where all the cutlery and appliances were, so it would be rude to call this phenomenon "it", and I felt much more comfortable with getting him a name. After that broken window, your stories about exploding cups this all seemed like something you could easily accept, and since "Sebastian" was the very first thing that came to mind, I just decide to go with it. What do you think?

\- _**You knew?**_

\- Yes, sir, I'll be more than happy to lend you a hand during today's meeting. When shall we meet? Oh, could you wait a second, I've heard some strange noise from the kitchen, I'll go and check it and I'll be right back.

Drats! Why is he always appearing out of nowhere?! The sunshine was heading towards the room, but I had no intention to let him ruin the moment once more. _Not when it turns out that I really was a Dumb-o for the last couple of days._ Well, Eugenia is, probably, also unaware, so at least I'm not the only one. 

\- The back door, quick! - I grabbed the housemate's hand, praying that the door would open this time.

Maybe Sebastian was in a good mood. Maybe Charlene really was his favourite. Or maybe he wasn't fond of the sunshine ( _I mean, he is forced to spend 24 hours a day in the same house with the man, who would blame him?_ ). Either way, the door handle turned and we rushed out into the backyard, running for dear life to turn around the corner before he notices us. The odds were in our favour, as the voice of the camp director caught up with us only when we were trying to catch our breath, hiding on the other side of the building. 

\- No, everything seems to be perfect. Must have been a random noise. So, how is the Lawson-Graham situation going? - by the sound of it the man has made himself comfortable on the stairs, right before Charlene waved for us to move to the front door. Apparently, the curiosity and the knowledge that we'll be in trouble should the sunshine catch us has turned my inner old ninja into an upgraded young one, as we tiptoed our way to the main gates.

\- Sheesh, that was close, - Charlie was a bit agitated, but I was in no mood for the topic change.

\- Wait, are you telling me that you knew all along? And we behaved like clowns, trying to hint you at the stuff you'd already known?

\- Well, I did not know it from the very beginning, - the brunette avoided looking into my eyes, pretending that the grass was indeed very interesting this morning. - I suspected that something was not right when I had this strange feeling during the post office incident, so I came back here to relax a bit and to drink a coffee to clear my thoughts. But the director was there, in the dining room, and I couldn't stand seeing him, so I marched into my room. And there, just when I was complaining to Delilah - that's my younger sister, - my brain gears started swirling quicker to keep up with the speed of the new information, - a cup of coffee appeared out of nowhere! I than tried to talk aloud about waffles, cookies and all the other things that sprung to my mind, but after the fourth tray I was sure I wasn't dreaming, - she took a deep breath and I used the pause to ask some questions.

\- Have you told your sister about all of this? And have you had any weird dreams?

\- No, I didn't have any strange dreams and no, I haven't mentioned anything bizzare to Lilah. But the thing is that since yesterday's morning I can get through to her. I tried several times yesterday, yet to no avail. And there's another thing, - she drew a deep breath, closed her eyes and fired out. - I had a suspicion that Eugie knew about the situation, but I hadn't known whether you were aware, so I kept silent. And yesterday when I called Delilah, I heard the noise from the adjacent room, and the door was ajar, and I might have overheard your conversation. Please, tell me you're not mad at me.

\- Charlie, are you kidding me? Why on earth should I be mad at you? We've been basically doing the same thing, 'cause, - I chuckled and shook my head. - 'cause we all were afraid that the others would think we went nuts. Relax, we're even-steven. - I gave her a smile which she returned with her shoulders sagging in relief. - I guess, it's time for us to put our cards on the table, but the place doesn't seem really appropriate.

Charlie beamed with joy that she apparently had a solution to the issue. 

\- We can talk about it on our way to the market! I promised Eugenia to make some cinnamon rolls, but I lack some ingredients. I asked director yesterday, the market stays open till two p.m., and it's already noon! Hang on, I'll get in, take my purse and I'll be back in a blink of an eye!

While the brunette rushed back inside the house, I took my phone out and recorded an audio message into the group chat, before casting a glance at the date. June sixth. Jeez, the Cub Creek Summer Festival starts on Monday! How could I forget?

The Cub Creek Summer Festival is basically a series of competitions taking place in Cub Creek where Molly's Meemaw and Peepaw live and where Mols spends her summer. The festival is held to find out who has the best garden, the best horses, the best cowboy skills, and the list goes on and on as the festivities last three weeks and end on the last day of June with a big celebration and the proclamation of the ultimate winner. The vast clan of Jones' family unites to show who's the best at ~~kicking butts~~ at all types of activities, but, man, the competition is high. Usually I would start rallying Mols up and supporting her with my aunt a few days ahead of the festival opening, but in this mayhem, I've completely forgotten about it! Molly didn't pick up her phone, so I sent her a private message, asking her about the festivities preparation and her mood.

\- I'm all set! - Charlie jumped out of the house, startling me. - Oh, sorry for that. So, shall we? And about this camp... You were the first one to get into the camp, right? 

As we hit the road, I started recalling the beginning of the events, preparing for a long, _long_ talk.


	8. Dom(e)ystic. Part 2

\- So your aunt is also off the limits for now? - Charlene made her way between the stalls, as I followed her, curiously looking around.

The market square turned out to be the most vibrant corner of the town, full of laughter, banter, colours and sunshine. The square itself was formed by the circle of two-storey buildings that looked like gingerbread houses with various stores on the ground floor. Watchmaker, pharmacy, miner equipment... This place seemed more like a scene out of fairytale. The market stalls were situated under the common tent, where dozens of sellers persuaded the customers to choose their goods. The place was pretty crowded even in the afternoon, although the vendors were getting impatient trying to sell out the products before the market closes.

\- Yes, every time I called her, I heard that the subscriber is not available. Molly promised to try and get through to her a bit later. Remind me, what are we looking for?

\- We're out of rise yeast, brown sugar and eggs. And that's the same response that I got when I tried calling Lilah yesterday! Do you know whether Eugenia can call her family?

\- She did get a call the day after her arrival, but I haven't heard anything since. Are you sure we can find it all here? - I sceptically looked at the stalls loaded with fruits and vegetables, but definitely not the things we came here looking for.

\- Positive. Just give me a minute.

After a minute and thirty circles around the market, Charlie left me on one of the corners, still searching for eggs. I was grateful for a small pause, as the temperature was rising, and the crowded place felt like a chattering sauna. Even standing aside I could here various fragments of conversations.

_-... and these potatoes taste better with butter and dill..._

_-... Have you seen her dress? Ghastly!..._

_-... I'm strongly against closing those mines! What are people going to do?..._

_-...Look at those strawberries! What about a strawberry cheesecake?..._

_-...I honestly hope the wedding on Wednesday will go fine. I won't put up with any more fights..._

I was pulled back from the sleepy state when my phone buzzed in my pocket, telling me that a couple of new messages appeared in the group chat.

 **_Eugenia_ ** _added a new user **Charlie**_

 **Captain Jones:** welcome to the supernatural club. sorry for not writing more, a bit busy this weekend, will probably keep up with it all on monday. chipmunk, try not to get into trouble by that time.

 **Eugenia:** Director is constantly on the phone, but it seems that he's not in a rush, so take your time.

I raised my head just in time to see Charlie getting through the crowd, smiling and waving a small package.

\- Took the last ones. Let's go? 

\- Ready when you are. You seem really happy about the whole process, - and that's to say the least: Charlie was almost skipping, squinting her eyes in the shining sun.

\- I love cooking, but baking is just something unreal, - she avoided bumping into a woman, as we were getting out of the buzzing market square. - We would usually gather with my mother and my grandparents on Sunday mornings in the kitchen and bake something. I love chocolate chip cookies and Lilah adores all sorts of cupcakes, so we literally started fighting with spoons, till my mom would declare that we are banned from cooking on that day. We would sneak in back later anyway. And what about you? Do you have any siblings? 

\- No, I'm the only child, - I chuckled, as the scene of spoon fighting between two small kids wearing aprons and chef hats in my head was way too hilarious. - I thought that you were more keen on ballet? Eugie has mentioned it.

\- Ballet is more of a concentration trick. My speech speed highly depends on my mood, and ballet helps me to stay focused and to control myself. I'm not really into professional dance though. I have no aspirations to make a career there. Opening a bakery - that's for sure, but not dancing. What about you?

\- I'm more of a bookworm type, so, maybe, a major in literature or in journalism. Both sound equally nice.

\- Somehow I really can see you cornering some corrupted officials, - Charlie giggled, pushing the main gates.

\- Well, let's see how I will handle cornering one nasty summer camp director into telling us the truth.

Deep down I knew that it was easier said than done. Sunshine was like an old fox - lying, denying, manipulating and refusing to admit anything unless there is concrete-solid proof. Addressing him bluntly would bring no results, so in order to find out why he needed us as a decoy, we should also be sly and cunning, as we look out for any clues that would bring us close to the solution. So, the ball is in our court now, and we'll see how we can play it, when Ray-Williamson is out of the house.

The said man has locked himself in his office on the second floor, and according to Eugenia, the conversation started hours ago, but sunshine hasn't left his fort since. A quick snooping didn't bring any results - he was speaking loudly enough for us to hear his voice, but we still couldn't distinguish the words. After a brief council meeting we made up our minds to play good and polite kids and try baking something on the kitchen first or hang out in someone's room, should the man still be in the house by that time.

Now I do have to admit that Sebastian is a cool ~~being~~ dude, I guess? It was much easier navigating the kitchen with him, and he was much more help that me and Eugenia. Seeing him helping Charlie by washing the plates, flunging the towels and occasionally offering us measuring cups so that together with Eugie we could make our contribution to the process mesmerised us. Open-mouthed we followed everything with our eyes, feeling like little kids. And after all, we did help Charlie feel like a little kid too - a spoon fight for the icing probably reminded her of her childhood, but after that she went into full chef mode, forbidding us to go near icing and asking Sebastian to rattle loudly as soon as we tried to snatch it. Did he listen to her? Well, let's just say that now I have a headache, 'cause I don't like loud noises, and the tea I made myself turned out to be tooth-rotting sweet, despite the fact that I specifically made sure no sugar was even anywhere around my cup. The blonde housemate was now slightly sulking, as she also failed to grab anything, but Charlene looked victorious.

And just as we took the rolls out of the oven, the bang of the front door announced that it was high time to channel our inner Nancy Drew and get ready for some snooping. We waited for ten minutes to be completely sure that the sunshine was far enough and separated the house into three zones: Charlie got the ground floor, I was responsible for the first floor check, while Eugie was in charge of the second floor. 

There were more open doors on my floor now, seeing that there were more people staying here, but the other rooms were still out of our reach. All three of us tried calling Sebastian for help, but no avail - the doors shook, rattled and stayed closed. Some of those had the keyholes of the old type that should be opened with a skeleton key, so I tried to spy through them. ~~Alice through the Looking Glass~~ Ali through a Keyhole. After about 20 minutes of squating, squinting my eyes and nervous jumping, 'cause my legs became numb I figured out that there was one more bedroom, a strange room with some mannequins and a long table, and another room where everything was covered in white sheets. In fact, none of the rooms seemed to be lived-in. Why would you live in a house where everything is closed and covered in sheets, but there are no renovation works going on? The mansion was in a condition in which the owners would leave it before going on a long vacation. If you don't need the room and whatever furniture is inside, why don't you pick it clean? You can even hire some workers if you don't want to pick up the slack, and you can still keep the pick of the bunch. Just... _pick_...

Five seconds of a frantic pocket search, and I was firing away my question in the search engine. Soo, my options are bobby pins, paper clips or coat hangers. I don't have the first two, but the third one seemed too uncomfortable to follow the instructions. Getting more desperate, I returned to my room, rummaging through my suitcase, trying to find at least something. Ugh, why is there always a lot of trash and weird things in you luggage when you want to keep it clean and neat, but none of those, when you actually need them. Alright, too soon to give up. Who else in the house has all kinds of stationary? I ran out of room and reached the staircase landing, shouting on top of my lungs.

\- Eugiiie! Do you have any paper clips?

\- Jesus Christ, Ali! You scared me! - Eugenia bent over the edge of the banister. - Of course I have same paper clips!

\- Perfect! Can I borrow two? No, let's make it four!

\- All right, but why do you need them?

\- I want to try something that might come in handy later.

After all, you never know when you'll need a skill of picking up a lock later in your life. 

* * *

\- Hold it up and don't move! It says that we should should move the deadbolt in, when the lever is up.

\- Hurry up, it might slip off and we'll have to start over again!

\- Girls! Girls! I think I might be onto something! - Charlie ran up the staircase, puffing and panting, before she stopped dead, looking at us surprised. - What are you doing?

\- Ve'v aying to ick a vok.

\- We're trying to pick a lock, - I translated sitting amidst broken paper clips, trying to push up an improvised bent picklock, while Eugenia was squeezing up the second part of our tool, while holding a new clip in her teeth. - No results so far, but we've figured out how to do it. Drats! - another clip snapped, adding to the toll of the fallen stationary soldiers. - Do you know how to do it? 

I looked hopefully at Charlene, as the blonde housemate sighed and began making another instrument.

\- Sorry, no experience in that, - Charlie shook her head before reaching for her phone. - I can turn the flashlight on if that would be of any help.

\- Thanks, but I think it would only blind us, - Lyons took a deep breath, determined to crack the ~~door~~ case, no matter what. - Can you read the instructions aloud, while we try and change the roles? Ali will try to push the deadbolt in, and I'll try to hold the lever up. 

Five minutes, two rounds of Thomson reading the instructions, two more broken paper clips and one almost stuck, and one open door later our excited shouting filled the upper hall. After a brief victory dance we rushed into the now available location. Inside the room seemed even more uninhabited that from view from the keyhole, as everything was covered not only in sheets, but also in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. We sneezed and coughed as we lifted the covers, but after a while the tickly nose sensation was gone. Could have been the power of habit or the fact that Sebastian has channelled his inner Niles from "The Nanny" and swept the broken paper clips and dust till the room was perfectly clean and we accompanied it with final round of ~~applause~~ "achoo".

The room turned out to be some kind of a small music hall with a piano, a sofa and a couple of fancy chairs. There were a couple of dark cabinets in two further corners of the room and a small writing desk. Several paintings hung on the walls. We separated and started inspecting each and every drawer. I opened one of the cabinets and looked through it. A few novels, some music scores and a bust of a composer. The painting on my side of the wall depicted a pastoral landscape with two dogs in the foreground. The whole thing had the air of an antique salon well preserved in time, but definitely not of a part house where someone would gather to chit chat. I was trying to check whether there was something behind the painting, when Eugenia broke the silence. 

\- This room makes me uneasy. It's so, so...

\- Impersonal, - Charlie finished the sentence, closing the piano lid. - Look around. There are no photos, no tropheys with engraved names, nothing. It's just a posh image from a history magazine.

\- Still the sunshine avoids it at any cost, - I bit my lip and took another look around me. - It wasn't simply locked, noone has set their foot inside for a very long time. We might use it, if we would have the need to talk about something without the possibility of sunshine's snooping. It's not bad to become pur headquarters.

\- Good idea. Still, I can't fight the feeling that this room was filled with some belongings of its owners once. If there are so many paintings, why aren't there any personal depictions here?

\- The portraits! Jeez, I forgot about it! - Charlene jumped to her feet, pulling us to exit and rushing downstairs. - Ali, in your dreams you've seen a large rectangular object hanging on the wall and a woman with three girls nearby, right? Look!

_Idiot. I'm a complete idiot. The portraits in the living room._

Thee paintings with three young women looking at us. The lady on the left was holding a small dog on her lap, and several books were stacked behind her. The young woman in the middle was smiling enigmatically, holding a fan and sitting surrounded by several splendid bouquets. The last portrait depicted a lady in a white dress with a strange jewellery tired around her wrist like a bracelet. At first glance she was standing alone on the picture, but if you stepped up and looked a bit closer you could see the obscure figure of an older woman, who was supporting the younger one. A small plague on the picture read " _Beloved mother and her beloved young daughter_ ".

\- All portraits have their plagues, - Charlie went on describing her findings, while we were gawking at the the paintings. - Two of them say " _Beloved young daughter_ ", but the other one has a " _Beloved mother and her beloved young daughter_ " writing. I've tried to take them down to see whether there is anything on the back, yet they are almost glued to the wall! Buuuuut, look what they can do!

She gripped the closest portrait and started turning it clockwise. The picture swirled and stopped with a click twice, before it was turned horizontal. 

\- They all do this. In general, each portrait has eight freezing positions. Have you seen the correct ones in your dreams? - Charlie turned to me hopefully, as Eugenia tried to follow the swirling scheme.

\- No, the woman was just hanging the painting and that was it, - I frowned, pondering upon the situation. - And un my dreams the girls were kids, and here they are already adults...

\- On the other hand, we wouldn't have been able to recognise the family ties, had you seen them all as the grown women, - Eugenia took a step back and a deep breath. - Well, if we don't know the right combination, we'll have to try and crack it.

I mean, what's so hard? There just, what, like 56 options?

* * *

\- I'm done, - Eugena joined Charlie sitting with her legs crossed on the floor, as I began shaking my hands. - It must be broken.

The sun has already set down, as we spent more than two hours trying to crack the code. The damn things clicked and stayed still, yet nothing happened. Another thing was that there was no other sound than a simple "click", so there was no way for us to tell whether we were right or wrong.

\- That or there is a bigger combination. Either way, I'm sick of it, - I turned away from the portraits and looked at the girls. - Anyone up for some cinnamon rolls and tea?

I took satisfied grumble from the floor as the sign of agreement, and together with Eugie we lifted Charlie from the floor, before moving into the kitchen. Eugenia started looking for some plates, Charlene was occupied with separating the rolls and I went to put the kettle on, when a sudden movement behind the gates caught my eye. _Another goddamn werewolf. Again. Nope, not having any more of it._

\- Ali! Ali, where are you going?

I stormed off out of the back door and headed to the gates. _Stupid town, full of some sort of clowns, tricks and hocus-pocus. Locked doors, turning paintings, fake summer camps. Is it a circus or what? I've had enough of it!_

\- Hey! Hey! - I caught the attention of the roaming being, getting closer to the fence, separated from it only by the gates. - Over here. Now what the hell is it all about? Like, we know you're a werewolf, not a stray dog or a wild wolf, all right? Maybe, turning into a human and talking to us would be a better option than to roam around the house, scaring people? Have you thought about it? You've been stalking us for days now, high time you stopped!

The sound of approaching footsteps told me that the girls have caught up with me, and as Eugenia grabbed my shoulder to pull me back, the wolf started turning. His limbs and paws grew longer, transforming into human arms and legs, his tail seemed to be sucked back into his body ( _and I was now one hundred percent sure that I don't want to be a werewolf_ ), and his snout turned into a human face with sharp features that disappeared after a few seconds. Well that was creepy. Wait, I've seen him.

\- You're that guy from the post office! - Charlie stepped up, visibly fascinated.

\- Hayden, - he nodded and looked nervously behind his shoulder. - I've been trying to catch your eye for some time now. I'm sorry for that incident, we thought you knew and were already trained. Argh, fine, - the guy shook his head and started talking at a cosmic speed. - Listen, in a nutshell, as soon as you arrived into town you should have been warned and trained, but the freak who runs the house has, clearly, told you nothing, and something tells me he's not even your guardian. I'm really sorry that we've started off the wrong foot, but there indeed was a misunderstanding, 'cause we hadn't known you were kept in the dark, and now we really want to help you with Kaylinn, - he looked at me. - Your boss knows everything. Go to her and tell her that Hayden had spilled the beans, she'll explain everything. I have to run - if anyone catches me here, we all will be in big trouble. Just go and ask her!

With these words the guy turned back into the wolf, leaving standing in the backyard speechless, exchanging looks with each other.

\- Has anyone understood what he said? - Eugenia muttered weakly, still clutching my hand. 

\- Not really, but I think that Ali's boss can shed more light on it.

\- Ali! Why have you stormed off like that! - the blonde housemate has zoned out when she heard my name.

\- I'm sorry, it's just... this whole mystery thing is getting on my nerves and it has gotten the better of me, - I didn't dare to look up, feeling the guilt rising in my gut. _It was careless. You should have warned them. You should have..._

\- Honestly? A few more hours in this town, and I would have done exactly the same thing. We're only human, and this whole thing is nerve-racking. Besides, - Charlie bumped my shoulder with her fist. - We've finally got a tip off. And the stalker thing would probably be over now, so it was all for the best.

Lyons looked at us like an exasperated mother of two five-year-olds, before sighing and accepting it.

\- Fine, just warn us next time, deal? - Eugenia accepted my nod as an agreement, before asking a nagging question. - What are we going to do? I don't suppose you now the address of you boss's house?

\- Nope. But the address book surely does, - I responded, opening my mail box on my phone.

* * *

The street lamps were nearly the only sources of light on the streets as we were trying not to switch to a running mode, rushing to get to James Street. As it turned out it was near the Market square that we left hours ago, and missis Robinson's house had a very distinctive lush flowerbeds in front of it. The doorbell had an unexpectedly nice sound, missis Robinson had a lovely bathrobe and an expectedly surprised look on her face.

\- Ali? Eugenia? What are you doing here so late? And you must be...? - the woman squinted her eyes to see Charlie better.

\- Charlene Thomson, - the brunette waved her hand and smiled. - We're here because we had a very interesting talk with Hayden, and he told us we could ask you to get the major points better.

A whole range of emotions could be seen on missis Robinson's face, as she undoubtedly did not approve of the guy's actions, but us standing on her porch gave her no choice.

\- Come into the house. We can't talk about it on the street.

The lady let us into a cozy two-storey cottage and led us into a small living room, full of photos, knick-knacks and toys, before disappearing in the adjacent room and returning with a tray and a four person teas set a bit later. A small plumb corgi lazily entered the room, looking around curiously.

\- Before any of you asks, she's pregnant and not fat, - missis Robinson sat down in an armchair, having given us the cups with hot tea. - So what exactly do you want to hear from me?

\- We were wondering, whether you could give us a general overview of the things. Hayden was... too precise, - I sat back, praying that my bluff would work.

\- Meaning that he hasn't told you anything, but sent you to me instead, - the lady shook her head and looked at us. - Well, let's start from the beginning. Our realm consists of two worlds - that of ordinary people and that of magical folk. Our worlds exist separately, as the difference between us causes a great rift between the communities: people hate us, fearing us, blaming us for every misfortune or envy us. Some of us, in their turn consider people to be of a lesser value, try to manipulate them or enslave. There are no saints on either side of it. However, in order for our two worlds to coexist peacefully, the balance between them should be maintained: no magical folk harming people and vice versa. It's like keeping the balance of scales - when one of them outweighs the other the whole realm is plunged into chaos. Wars, inquisitions, raids... Some representatives of both sides get more power and fortune, but so much more get only suffering and loss. In order to stop this erratic dance of scales the realms choose mediators - those who were born human, but have the gift of the magical folk.

\- So, we are the mediators? - Eugenia spoke from the sofa, as we were all listening to the lady.

\- Indeed you are, my child. Mediators or witches and wizards, as some call them, feel the urge to get into a specific place - a town or a city, where the tension are on the rise. That or the fate herself brings them to their destination. Their goal is to maintain peace between two communities, as they work with the representatives of both worlds. They are the judge, the jury, the lawyer and the public prosecutor. They deliver their sentence if someone from our side harms the other magical creature or a human. They deliver the sentence if someone from the other side breaks the rules and harms us. They keep the balance with the help of the leaders of the communities - your guardian must know them and have a list of them. 

\- Who is this guardian? - the sound of my voice has strartled even me.

\- I can't really tell you, - now even missis Robinson has joined our club "bewildered people trying to process it". - From what I heard, mediators usually have two of them, and they are something between the teachers and the advisers, appearing a week after the first mediator has set foot into town but I'm not really sure. All I know is that there are two guardians and three mediators: the dark one, the light one and the mixed one.

\- You mean, the evil one, the good one and the one that hasn't decided yet?

\- Tell me, child, does your eye colour or your hair colour determine your character?

\- No...

\- The same thing with the magic. Some of us get their abilities from the dark magic and others - from the light one, but those are simply the sources of our powers that have no influence over our actions. I've met some demons that were far better than some fairies. 

\- Another question, - I raised my head. - Why don't the representatives come and meet us?

\- They used to do this, - the woman became visibly uncomfortable. - But they stopped doing this long ago. The rumour has it, that the last mediators in Witchbridge disappeared in the 20s, trying to maintain peace during some upheaval and that it was the communities leaders' greed that led to their disappearance. We've had no mediators since, and another rule appeared - no more rope-tugging. You talk to mediators only when they ask you direct questions, and lobbying them is forbidden. No more intrusions. That's why Hayden sent you off.

\- Only after we spoke to him directly. I still don't understand, how do the people not recognise you? - Charlene has put another sugar cube in her cup, though the tea went cold long ago.

\- Well, Witchbridge was founded by the family of the first mediators of the town, as a shelter for werewolves and us, dwarves. Soon the people, vampires, fairies and other magical folk joined us, adding to the growing population of an industrial town. Since the Middle Ages our species evolved in a natural process, adapting to live in hiding from humans. Werewolves now turn into full animals, having lost their ability to become a creature in-between, but their eyesight and hearing is far better now. Vampires grew more sun-resistant, and even though they can't move to California, they can spend a day here without any problems. Still, it's a paradox, but they can no longer swim - their bodies become numb and paralysed, floating to the bottom, so you won't see a bath tube in their houses. Dwarves have grown taller, yet we partly lost our ability to see well in the darkness and mining is not our first priority. Fairies have also grown, but they lost their wings, so now you can't tell them so easily. After all, - she smiled, - you wouldn't say that Daisy is one?

\- Daisy?

\- The waitress?

\- The woman from the café?

\- She is a fairy, - the woman chuckled and looked at us warm-heartedly, as a grandmother admiring her children. - And the people have subconsciously grown used to it. It's hard to notice something, when you grew up in a town where magical folk comprises two thirds of the population. Now, I don't want to seem rude, but just like Hayden I would be in a big trouble if someone sees you here or your camp director notices your absence. I'm not the representative, and I can't tell you everything. I'm afraid, I've done everything I could, and I'm out of my remit here.

Shaken up, we thanked the woman who left us out of the house with sympathetic and apologetic look. I shrugged a bit when we stepped outside as it was now slightly too chilly for my taste. The clock on the phone screen told me that it was past midnight. I bet you I won't sleep normally in this town. For a while, we walked home in silence, each one of us analyzing the information we've heard. Mediators... We're teenagers! Sometimes we can't handle the arguments with our parents well, and they want us to keep peace between two communities? You know, the fact that a fourteen-year-old participated in the Triwizard Tournament doesn't seem strange at all. Just another day in the magical world.

\- So, - Charlie spoke out, kicking a pebble, - they've told us that our predecessors disappeared under mysterious circumstances, we have to shovel their shit and maintain peace between humans and magical creatures, there's some problems in this town, but noone will tell us directly, and someone who could help us will only arrive tomorrow? Does anyone have a normal explanation for that?

\- Will "muggles" do? - my response has made the girls laugh, easing the tension in our minds. You hope for a summer camp, and they enroll you into a peacekeeping mission. _Fantastic_.

\- And here's their leader, - Eugenia has become more serious and nodded towards the gates.

Shit. Sunshine was waiting for us there with his arms crossed. Not good. I exchanged glances with the girls, and braced myself.

\- And how on earth, pray, can you explain your absence?

\- We went out for a walk.

\- I can see that, miss Thomson, I'm not an idiot. Don't think that all people are like you. Any particular reason for a walk in the night?

\- Insomnia. We all couldn't fall asleep. Even our pills didn't work, - I stepped a bit forward, as Eugenia was holding Charlie back from punching the jerk in the face. - So we've decided to take a walk around town, to relax and breathe some fresh air. We would have warned you, but you didn't deem us worthy enough of your mobile number.

\- Back in your rooms. **_Now_**.

We went back to the mansion, feeling exhausted and sick of the man's horrible behaviour. I had some curses suitable for the case, but the day was too tiring, and I could barely hold my eyes open, so I wished a good night to the girls and went straight to the bed, hoping to find more about the mediators in the morning.

**_As if._ **

I stared at my laptop screen, as the sun set was still illuminating the room well enough, so I didn't have to turn the nightstand lamp on.

The first Sunday in Witchbridge was utterly and completely wasted. Ray-Williamson decided to keep a close eye on us, so we couldn't snoop, talk about something aloud or even get back into the music room and look for the portrait clues - it would have been easier now, as the door was closed, but not locked, had the man not introduced us to his surveillance mode. We still could text in the group chat, discussing different theories about who will be our guardian, how we will recognise them and cursing the sunshine, but the necessity to stop our search for a day was driving me up the walls. A part of me admitted that we needed some rest, but with such control over our every step, it could hardly pass for some recreation time. I got distracted when we spent some time in the backyard after lunch, to the greatest dismay of the camp director.

* * *

_\- Girls, can I ask you for a favour? - I whispered to the girls, when sunshine was out of the room for 5 minutes._

_\- Sure thing._

_\- Go ahead._

_\- Molly's family is participating in an annual town festival, and they are usually very nervous before the big opening. I want to take a video for her to cheer her up, but I'm bad at filming. Can you simply hold the phone, while I will say something to brighten up her mood?_

_\- Why are you even asking?_

_\- We can even make a poster or a banner with wishes, - Eugenia's face lit up. - I still have some paper and paint left, so it should be fun!_

_\- I would be very grateful if we did this!_

_\- Then let's hit it off!_

* * *

_\- Charlie, a bit more to the right, it should be in the centre. Ali, are you drawing a Jolly Roger?_

_\- What? It's a lucky charm. She'll get the joke._

* * *

_\- They even have the best shepherd's dog category?_

_\- Meemaw is extremely proud of Cooper. He's won twice already._

* * *

_\- Alright, you two, who wrote "From Charlie, Eugie and Chipmunk"?!_

* * *

I smiled as I looked at the laptop screen and hit the " _Send_ " button. A video of all three of us smeared with paint wishing Molly and her family best of luck was marked as "sent", before I closed the tab and turned to another one. 

Hayden mentioned that he and his girlfriend were ready to help us, so providing us with more specific information on the current situation in Witchbridge will be a good start. The post office site didn't have any of their contacts listed, but you could send a message to the manager, so we've decided that one of us should write them a letter reading:

" _Thank you for your perfect service! The delivery was perfect, but I'm still waiting for the call from your worker concerning the home delivery details that I asked on Thursday. Here's my phone number, in case you've misplaced it_ ".

Guess who drew a lot?

I scanned the letter once more before sending it, closing the laptop, turning the lamp on and setting my alarm for 6 a.m. Molly will probably be up with the sunrise tomorrow, so I can rally her up for the competition and tell her all about our weekend. She will never forgive me if I describe everything in a text.

I put my phone off, taking a book and burying my nose into it, noticing parallels between the growing City Watch and my knowledge of Witchbridge species. I wonder, if I could apply the information from the book to the real world? My mother's words bubbled to the surface. _It will be a normal summer._ You bet, mom, you bet. I smirked to myself and returned to my reading, as the night outside started claiming her rights, casting everyone into a sweet summer sleep, preparing them for wonders of the day to come.


	9. The first Guardian

\- Mols? Are you still there? - I rubbed my eyes and tried not to yawn, but failed miserably. Still, I had some hope that a cool shower would key me up, but waking up earlier to call Molly was totally worth it. The opening day of the Cub Creek Summer Festival consists of three parts: the opening ceremony early in the morning with the mayor and the pillars of the community delivering their several-hours-long speeches, a break so that everyone can bring home-made food and various drinks to the main square and a party on the same square in the evening. Older generations show up to the town hall at least half an hour before the official ceremony dressed to the nines to show the opponents that they are ready to compete and eat them for breakfast. That also means that the younger generation has to handle all the household matters on this particular morning before they get to de-stress at the party later that night. 

When I called Molly, she was in the middle of a rock-paper-scissors match with Jason trying to decide who's going to handle the cows and who's going to clean the chicken barn and cook the breakfast. I didn't actually hear the official results announcement, but the sound of Jason cursing and Molly moving around the kitchen suggested that she's not going to deal with any bullshit today.

\- Yep, still here. Just trying to wrap my slightly sleep deprived mind around it. So, if I get it right, you have to sort out the mess, but the people who can help you will start coming only today? A week after your arrival in the town that is more like a gunpowder barrel?

\- Bingo, - I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, holding the phone with my shoulder and starting to brush my hair. - And we don't even know who that person is and how are we going to recognize them, how exactly are they going to help us, and... I don't know, Mols. A part of me is squealing in delight, but the other part is screaming blue murder that someone has shoved into my mouth a gigantic cake piece that is so much more than I can chew. It just all seems so much... 

I stood up, putting the brush away, and looked into the mirror. It took only 7 days for my world to get turned upside down, and now it felt like everything has just started kicking into high gear. I was completely calm yesterday, but now my nervousness rose along with the sun, and I even started feeling a bit nauseous. The little fantasy lover inside of my heart was as happy as a pig in mud, ready to set off on an adventure that was happening in the real life and not on the pages of a book. The rational being inside my head whispered that it would be good to know at least where to start clearing up the mess and what this mess actually is, as no one dared to give us a full update, fearing what the others may say. Or what sunshine may say... He's not a vampire, a dwarf, a werewolf or a fairy, yet he belongs to the magical world. He didn't appear a week after my arrival, so he wasn't our Guardian. Was he a warlock? Missis Robinson seemed to mention that only Mediators were witches and wizards. How did he get the hold of the mansion and the place on the city council board? He was that horrible little puzzle piece that didn't want to fit into the general picture. Pity we were too overloaded with emotions that we didn't ask missis Robinson who he really is. Still, I can do it today at work.

\- It is, - Molly's voice became much softer, as the background noises stopped. - Ali, listen to me. It's OK to feel overwhelmed with all this. The thing is, and I want you to remember it, - you're not alone. No matter what, you have me, you have Eugie and Charlie, and we will pull it off together. Even in the town, despite their prejudices and superstitions that guy hinted you at the right leverages to find information. Your boss reluctantly told you what she could share. We all have doubts, theories and suspicions, but combining our forces together will help us with sorting it out. Chipmunk, I know, it might not always be easy, but we will always be there to pick you up. You know it. We'll do it together.

\- Mols?

\- Yes?

\- Have I told you that you're the best and that I would have never imagined that I would have such a friend?

\- Hah! You bet, I am! Now get your little ass up and go meet your Guardian! Keep me updated, right?

\- Yep. And keep us posted on the festival!

\- Get ready for the videos of Peepaw rocking the dance floor! See you later, _Ali_ gator!

\- Gotta roll, dear _Mol_!

I put the phone away and took a deep breath. Well, time to roll up our sleeves and get down to it. Molly's right, Ali. Time to figure out whether a touch of magic will provide us with a magic touch when it comes to getting to the bottom of mysteries of this town. Books are cool, and one day you'll be an author or a journalist, but right now it's "Being a witch. Day one". _Silver locket, bring me luck._

* * *

Eugenia was still in her room, but Charlie was almost ready for the start of her first working day, as I entered the dining room ( _right after checking the living_ _room for new suitcases and peeking out of the window to see if anyone was coming_ ). It came as no surprise that sunshine was hiding his face behind a newspaper (which was a huge improvement for the general atmosphere), but the brunette's look made me slightly raise my eyebrows. Despite the hot weather promised by the forecast, Charlie was dressed as a white-collar worker: black skirt, white blouse, kitten heel shoes and her hair in a neat bun. 

\- Good morning, everyone! Charlie, you're spick-and-span! Have I missed something? - I smiled as I sat down, but my smile withered, as I noticed that the girl was fidgety and nervous and had barely touched her food. - Is everything fine?

\- I recommended miss Thomson to choose an appropriate attire for her first working day, as your generation has little knowledge of class and style, - the jerk lowered his newspaper, saw my claret-colored T-shirt saying " _Chaos coordinator_ ", screwed up his face and hid behind the sheets of paper. - Her workplace has a very specific dress code which she should follow to the letter.

\- So what's the mysterious job, then? Is she going to be the mayor's personal assistant? - I bit into my toast, carefully eyeing Charlene who has started typing something on her phone, now that I was distracting the man.

\- Stop talking nonsense, she's not qualified for that. Only someone with experience, skills and capability to keep everything under control can hold this position, - his puffed-up tone made it quite clear that the only worthy candidate was sitting on his chair. - She will help the Registry. It is flooded with all sorts of balderdash letters and unimportant documents, so sorting them into the folders "Trash", "Trifling" and "Froth" will be up her alley. - _Pity that there's only a folder for trash. Had there been a bigger container, we could have dumped you in it._ \- Miss Jazmine Davis, another priceless worker of that department, will tell miss Thomson everything she needs to know.

\- It's weird, - Charlene has put her phone aside for a second and turned to the director. - It still embraces working with the documents, yet they take a minor as a trainee? Isn't that irrational?

\- I would not question it, since the existence of the Registry in this town and the overall actions of the Witchbridge administration, especially the current mayor's assistant, are irrational, - sunshine sounded irritated, definitely not enjoying the interaction with other human beings.

 _-_ If only there was a rational and effective town council board to right their wrongs, - I tried to mutter it quietly, but the way Charlene snorted into her cup and sunshine reappeared from behind the ~~clouds~~ newspaper suggested the opposite.

\- I beg your pardon? - Ray-Williamson resembled a volcano that was ready to erupt, and I could have sworn that his cup moved aside for a few inches. _Sebastian doesn't want to deal with another broken set._

\- I haven't said anything.

\- Oh, you have. And miss Thomson found it to be rather hilarious.

\- I sneezed.

We exchanged quick mischievous glances with Charlie and put our polite poker faces. Two little angels to a tee.

\- Are you sure you're not hearing things? Is everything fine, mister Williams? You shouldn't overwork, seeing how valued you are by the members of the Witchbridge community...

\- And you should definitely visit a doctor if you are unwell. Such symptoms may be dangerous, - Charlie chimed in with a concerned facial expression. 

\- **_Get to work now!_** \- the man bellowed like a bull and slammed the newspaper on the table so hard that the plates and the cups jumped. Charlie pushed me to the exit, as I was grabbing a couple of bananas and some cookies, and we quietly burst out laughing as soon as we got out of the room.

\- He deserved it. Are you fine? You looked anxious, - I offered her a banana and half of the cookies I had in my hands.

\- No big deal, I'm just a bit nervous and, - she lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper and looked over her shoulder to make sure no one else was around, - I had a weird dream tonight. It was a bit different from the one you or Eugie described, but I guess everyone gets their unique types. I'll write it in chat, we can't discuss it here. - I could clearly see enthusiasm toppling off her nervousness, as she was eager to share the news and finally saw the food I was holding out. - Oh, no, thanks, I'm not hungry. I don't really want to it when I'm nervous, so it's fine...

\- Bollocks. It's not, - I interrupted her and shook my hand a bit. - It will bring you no good if you pass out on your very first working day. The anxiety will disappear after a couple of hours, but it will be a long shot till lunchtime. Come on, chop-chop! They are not poisonous. Besides, we need to stay vigilant today. And I have an idea, but I'll also text it to you.

\- Thanks, Ali, - the housemate smiled and took the food, as I put the rest of it into my backpack. - I'd better hurry - the town hall is on the King's square on the other side of the town, so it's time I took my purse and set off.

\- No worries, you'll be fine. Not everyone in this town is an exemplary swine wanting to get their hands on the mayor's assistant post, - I nodded to the dining room and waved Charlie goodbye, as she burst out giggling.

The road leading to the downtown was empty and quiet only with insect buzzing and the leaves rustle occasionally breaking the silence. Some birds chirped above my head, as I was typing and walking in the shadows granted by the trees along the sidewalk. An idyllic summer morning in an idyllic town straight from the pages of a fairytale. Honestly, if some fairies would jump from the bushes or the grass and start singing and dancing in a ring to the music of the enchanted instruments, I wouldn't be surprised. I _would only hope that there was a violin in the band_. I took another look at the text on my phone screen before hitting the button and opening the shop door.

* * *

_**Witchbridge** group chat_

**Ali:** Girls, I have an idea. We forgot to ask mrs R about sunshine, so I suggest we each ask our bosses today about it and text the results here. They're bound to know at least something, the camp or whatever it is must have an agreement with our workplaces.

* * *

_There was one of my kin (of another day)_   
_When the Riddle of Life defied her powers,_   
_And her fretted heart rebelled, would say,_   
_“I will go out and look at the flowers.”..._

_...Nothing to do–it will be as Who wills?_   
_Helpless to aid, how my hurt soul cowers!…_   
_Let me drink of the cup that pure Beauty distills–_   
_I will go out and look at the flowers!_

These parts of a poem by Edith M. Thomas got stuck in my head as I was busy with preparing the flowers for the posies. A big wedding will be taking place on Wednesday, and the shop was responsible for the flower arrangements. Missis Robinson has mentioned that the bride was very particular about the flower choice and has even lent me her notes on the language of flowers. Fringed tulip - _a perfect lover..._ Thornless white garden roses and spray roses - _love at first sight and I am worthy of you..._ Snow white ranunculus _\- I am dazzled by your charms..._ Peonies _\- happy life, happy marriage..._ Smilax vines _\- loveliness..._ Fern _- **magic**..._

I had to check some of these twice, as every time the bells announced a new visitor, I would go out of the workshop area, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, and take a look at the in-comer. No one seemed to pay any attention to that, apart from my boss who would smile and shake her head. After one of such manoeuvres I decided that missis Robinson was in the best mood to ask her the nagging question, but the woman noticed me lingering in the doorway and beat me to it.

\- No worries, dear. You will not miss them, that it's impossible, but you might miss a corner or a vase if you keep on jumping in and out of the back room like that. I will tell you if someone comes looking for you, - she tilted her head and patted me on the shoulder. - Have you found out anything interesting for you in my flower language notes?

\- They are truly fascinating, but it's really difficult to concentrate on it right now, - I stepped closer to the counter, keeping my eyes on the woman. - I'm just worried about our Guardian. What if they turn out to be as pleasant as Ray-Williamson? He's so... aloof and secretive. He doesn't tell us anything! I mean, how did he even get the job?

\- He...he... Oh dear, - the lady wavered and fell on her stool, startling the hell out of me.

\- Missis Robinson! Are you fine? Should I call the doctor? - I ran up to her, searching for my phone in the pockets, before realizing that I don't even know local doctor's number. _Shit_. Still, some of the neighbours might be home, they can surely give me his or her number and a first-aid kit... The latter should be somewhere around, no need to ask the neighbours for it. I can't leave her for long...

\- Don't worry, child, everything is fine. Must have been the blood pressure, - missis Robinson shrugged her shoulders and looked at me. - It happens from time to time, nothing serious. I'm sorry that I scared you so much that you've dashed from the workshop, child.

\- I haven't dashed from the workshop, missis Robinson, I have been standing by the counter. Don't you remember? We were talking about... - _sunshine_. The memories of him injuring the werewolf came to the forefront, and the idea of going around and asking people about him didn't seem to be that good anymore. If he found a way to sneak into the municipal government, he would come up with a way to keep everyone minding their business. It's better to steer clear from the topic. - We were talking about wedding arrangements. Are you sure you're fine? It might be something, let's call a doctor. 

\- No, sweetie, out of question. I know myself better than anyone, the best medicine would be a cup of hot black tea with sugar and a good friend. You know what? I'll call my friend who's used to work as a nurse, but we won't call the doctor, deal? She'll notice if something goes wrong, and it will calm your worries down.

I agreed and stayed by her side right till her friend arrived, leaving my boss only once to make her some tea. After about 10 minutes a tall gray-haired lady full of energy entered the shop and started doting on missis Robinson. I offered my help, but the former nurse waved me off, so I just brought another two cups of tea and went back to the workshop area, intending to sort out the flowers and snap a message to the girls, describing the situation. It is only then that I saw the unread messages in the chat.

* * *

_**Witchbridge** group chat _

**Charlie:** OK, will do it! Girls, I think, I had one of those dreams you told me about, but it differed from yours. It looked like those old black and white Disney cartoons, but the image was really grainy. It felt as if I was in a room with a low ceiling and some really uneven and rough walls, and in the corner of the room there is a cage or something like that. I can't tell you for sure, 'cause the dream was full of these white lines, like TV interferences, but what I did see was a giant creature with glowing eyes and enormous hands that shook the bars so hard, the whole room was shaking along! I couldn't make out its features or its full shape - just glowing eyes and big hands that tried to loosen the bars so that the whole place trembled. Now I started talking to my boss - miss Davis (btw she's really nice) and guess what she told me? There was another round of ground trembling this night near the North Peak mine!

 **Captain Jones:** coincidence? i think not.

I typed " _This is certainly not a coincidence. Such phenomenon near the San Juans, yet all they do is to shut down a couple of mines. There's something behind it all._ " and went on describing the details of the incident with missis Robinson, sharing my thoughts about sunshine protecting his privacy and asking the girls how their experience went, before hitting the button. I took a deep breath to calm down and get back to the reality, as the incident threw me off the track. Missis Robinson was now buzzing around moving vases, arrangements and pots under her friend's attentive gaze, trading barbless taunts and new rumours about the love life of their acquaintances with each other. I felt a great relief in my heart, as I feared that the sunshine's defence might have hurt the lady, but her behaviour has cleared up my doubts. As the tension left the workshop area, I turned around and went back to sorting the flowers, when my phone beeped.

 **Eugie:** How is mrs R now? Can you both get your lunch break hour off? There's someone in the archive that you both should meet. It will take Ali longer to get here, so she should leave the store in 25 minutes, if she has the opportunity to come. Charlie can make it 40, she's much closer. Enter through the back door, Charlie knows where it is. Text me whether you can come or not.

As soon as I finished reading the message, I peaked out of the back room into the main area where the heated argument about mister Alford's morals.

\- ...and I can't believe that he did this to her! He, of all men...

\- Oh, cut the slack, Abigail, he has never been trustworthy! Oh, Ali! You've startled me!

\- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, - I apologised and looked at missis Robinson. - How do you feel?

\- Oh, dear, I'm perfectly well, don't you worry.

\- It happens now and then, when you're as old as time, - her friend laughed and winked at me, fully enjoying teasing the owner of the shop.

\- You're two days younger than me, Bess, so don't you even start!

\- Ooh, someone is so long in the tooth, your fangs are scraping the floor, - I giggled, and missis Robinson turned her attention back to me. 

\- And to think that it is us who choose our friends, - she rolled her eyes and smiled. - How are your housemates, Ali? All settled in?

\- Thank you, they're already getting used to the town and to the jobs. By the way, Eugenia has asked us to come to the archive during the break, and I was wondering whether I could....

\- Oh, no worries, kiddo! - the former nurse waved her hands. - We've got everything under control, so you can go even now if you've finished what you were doing in there. 

\- She's absolutely right, Ali. We can call it an early break, so we all can go for our lunch break back home, into town, wherever we want, and meet each other back here at 3 p.m. sharp. Everyone satisfied? Then don't forget your things, ladies! 

* * *

_Aspen Street, Manor Road, New Street, Iron Ore Street, The Crescent, High Street..._ They all swept past, as I ran to Archive Square. Scorching sunshine forced everyone to stay indoors, holding a glass of soda with ice somewhere under a fan or an air conditioner. There weren't that many trees in the downtown, compared to the alley, full of pleasant shadow near the camp, but I have hardly noticed it, hurrying to my destination. Charlie was already patiently waiting for me in front of a large brownstone building, as I stepped into the square. She waved and showed me a big paper package, when I got closer.

\- What's that?

\- I dropped by Daisy's cafe to warn her that we're not coming today, so she made and packed us some waffles! - _Daisy, you're officially my favourite person in this town._ \- Come on, we'd better hurry! - the brunette passed a large staircase leading to the front entrance and turned around the corner. Keeping up with her has become a bit difficult, as I was out of breath because of my previous running, but I still managed to utter some phrases, huffing and puffing.

\- Why...can't we go... _phew_ , through the front door?

\- Eugenia's boss. She's more like a vulture guarding the sacred scroooooolls, - Charlie made big scary eyes and howled like a ghost before bursting into giggles. - But seriously, she's always haunting the halls of the archive, looking for someone who breaks the rules and itching to kick them out of the building. You remember that one time I was here on my first day? She followed me everywhere just to make sure that I didn't touch anything.

\- How does Eugenia put up with that? - eugh, I love when the building is designed to correspond to its surroundings in terms of style, but the trash shouldn't be _that_ historical. 

\- She usually works on the upper floors and tries to avoid her boss whenever possible. Okay, here's the back door, she should have left it open. We'll need to take the first staircase to the left and go up to the third floor.

\- Third floor? Please, tell me you're kidding.

\- Does it seem to be _a waffle_ lot? - Charlene waved the package, luring me inside the archive.

\- You have no mercy.

\- I have some tasty food.

\- What makes you think I'd fall for that one?

\- Living with you under the same roof?

\- **_Not. Fair._**

* * *

The air inside the archive was much cooler than outside, but the smell of dust and some atrocious chemicals seemed to infiltrate every square centimeter of the building. 

\- They have a rodent problem, - _I bet they do. Those heaps of rubbish outside would be a luxurious spa resort for rats._ \- There isn't so much stench on the upper floors, so it's tolerable.

Trying to communicate mainly using pantomime, we carefully went upstairs, avoiding creaky planks, holding our breaths and ducking behind the railing whenever it seemed that someone was coming close to us. Thankfully, Eugenia's boss remained a complete stranger to me, as we managed to reach the third floor unseen. The staircase landing was a part of a long hall, full of doors, but only one of them was left ajar and we could hear the blonde's voice coming from the room behind it. I pulled the door, before stepping inside, with Charlene following me, as we entered a surprisingly well-lit room full of stacks with files and cardboard boxes with different labels. The sun rays got into the room through an open circular window in the roof, forming a disk of light on the floor. Eugenia, who was sitting on one of the boxes, had been looking at something to the right of the door, but got distracted when he heard us coming. She cleared her throat and moved aside to let someone else to sit beside her.

\- And these are Ali and Charlie. Girls, this is Bartimaeus - one of our Guardians.

Up to this moment I hadn't even realised how worried and anxious I was, with my morning emotions engulfing me like gigantic dark ocean waves. Could there be a person able to shed some light on the doublespeak that has cocooned the town like a spider web? We are sick and tired of being kept in the dark with occasional fireflies sparing us the crumbs of information. There is only one way to find out. My heart was beating like a drum and my palm sweating, as I took another step into the room and turned around to finally take a look at the person who was in the same boat with us. Noone. What the? I blinked and lowered my eyes, as the confusion started bubbling inside my chest. An empty wall, hidden from the doorway by another stack, some papers scattered near the cardboard boxes on the floor, and on top of one of them...

 _Red fog has covered my vision. For a split second I felt something similar to a rope binding my left hand, but despite the protests and distrust of the common sense, my heart has calmed down, leaving the doubts and worries behind. I wasn't in the building anymore. The rustling of leaves filled the air, forming a chaotic melody with the loud songs of the seagulls. A big warm wave has covered me, as I felt the gentle sun rays on my skin and a taste of salt on my lips. I heard the people's voices from afar, speaking the language I've never heard before. ...iti kairo... I frowned and shivered, as the temperature dropped, and I_ **_opened my eyes._**

A small creature was sitting on the box, staring at us curiously. It looked like a gigantic potato or a wineskin with arms and legs and twisted horns looking like those of antelope growing from what must have been its head. It was hard to tell, as I could see no neck and the whole being looked like something drawn for a cartoon with no regard to the general anatomy. I heard Charlie taking a sharp deep breath behind me, but before anyone could do anything, the creature took the floor. 

\- _Ia! Leipon, pospaye?_

* * *

\- You could have told that you speak English, - I grumbled, making myself comfortable on one of the lower boxes near Eugenia, trying not to drop the package with my waffles. Charlene had already given Bartimaeus a fair share of food that he wolfed down in a blink of an eye, and now she was taking her place beside Eugie. The creature was sitting cross-legged, giving us some time to settle ourselves. I asked him if he would be comfortable with me recording the story to which he unexpectedly suggested that we call " _that your friend_ " instead, and Eugie whispered that she had already told him about Molly. Bartimaeus was convinced that having an active connection to the world outside Witchbridge may be useful, but in order to help us Mols had to be fully aware of the specifics of the matter. Now of all times Jones didn't pick up the phone, so the being waited till I started recording, before beginning his narration.

\- So, hello once again. As your friend has already mentioned, my name is Bartimaeus and I am one of your Guardians. From what Eugenia has told me, you've already received the general overview of the details, - we nodded eagerly, attentively catching every word, and he hopped to his legs, starting to go there and back on the box. A flashback of me sitting during one of my mom's endless lectures in countless universities has come to the surface. I don't remember the institution where it happened or what was the lecture all about. All I remember is my mother walking up and down the amphitheatre, while I was sitting in my favourite overalls among the students with a new book about dragons open on my lap. Now I may make allowance for a complete lack of interest in historical matters in eyes of a five year old kid, if I was to defend my mother's declamatory skills, though the fact that every student sitting around me was more keen on drawing other types of dragons on various sheets of paper ( _'cause I wouldn't let them do it in my new book_ ) instead of listening and taking notes, would prove a negative. I hope some of those students became artists - the drawings were incredible. _Let's hope you will become a witch, 'cause someone's daydreaming again!_ \- but let me just revise some details. The magic has existed on Earth since the beginning of time. It flows around, girding the planet, spreading around in form of streams: the currents of light and dark magic that sometimes cross each other, forming the mixed branches. Now all living beings may be divided into two groups: those who are susceptible to magic, and those who aren't. Magical folk, along with witches and wizards, belongs to the first group. We are born with the ability to find the magic sources around us and use them according to our capacity. Your magical abilities are somewhat similar to your physical ones: you are born capable of doing exercises to some extent and that extent is purely individual, and as you train, you unleash your full potential. Creatures that evolved from the magic of certain streams can derive strength only from the corresponding flows. Werewolves, vampires, goblins, gnomes, demons and trolls can use only the dark magic streams. Fairies, elves, nymphs, hobgoblins and banshees can turn only to the light magic currents. Mermaids, dwarves, pixies, djinns, leprechauns and dryads flock to the mixed flows. Humans, on the other hand, mostly belong to the second group - the one that is nonsusceptible to magic. But, there is an exception to every rule.

\- Mediators? - Eugenia's voice was quite, yet we all almost jumped out of our skin.

\- Not only, - Bartimaeus nodded and went on, resembling a thoughtful college professor. - Some humans are born with minimal or medium susceptibility - they can subconsciously conjure up some basic spells, but their capacities are extremely limited. Nevertheless, there are humans that are born with full susceptibility to a specific flow of magic. All people capable of sensing the streams are called witches or wizards, but only those with full susceptibility become mediators - arbitrary judges, healers, sheriffs and lawyers that try to keep the peace between two worlds. Aand, as history has shown us, it is achievable only when the interaction between them is minimal.

\- What exactly are our functions? And how do we learn to become mediators? - I moved a bit to hear better, paying attention so as not to cause too much noise on the recording.

\- As mediators you will mostly work with the magical folk and with those representatives of the human side who are aware of our existence. Like regular police forces, you will have to make sure no crime is committed against or by someone belonging to our world. If a crime is already committed, you will have to find the perpetrator and bring them to the Hidden Court - it's a name for the court that tries the cases of the magical world. Usually it is comprised of the mediators, and one representative of each race that lives in the area, including the human one, who are the jury and the judges combined. Together they decide on the sentence appropriate for the crime. Moreover, you will have to investigate different issues if they would pose a threat or raise concerns amongst the locals. As healers you will help to deal with some injuries or diseases, but, as a rule, our folk will ask your help only if it's something they can't deal with on their own. When it comes to your education, - Bartimaeus took a deep breath and proudly thrust out what probably was his chest (it is _really_ hard to tell), - this task falls on the shoulders of your Guardians - two representatives of the light and the dark magical folk. As a demon, I represent the dark flow. My light counterpart is arriving in a few days - probably on Thursday or on Friday. We'll start your apprenticeship upon their arrival, as it is forbidden for me to start teaching you on my own. Some may take it as me inclining you in favor of the beings of my flow. So you still have a few days till we will get down to business. So, what else.... Basically, as Guardians, we oversee your education, help you in your work and act as your advisors. The moment you meet your Guardians is the moment you become our responsibility and we will be held accountable for you to the moment when you unleash your full potential. Then we take a step back and act as your advisors, but not as mother hens. 

\- Question, - I raised my hand, almost kicking the rest of the waffle out of Charlie's hands. - How do you know you become a Guardian? And how do you recognise the mediators?

\- And that's a good question, - the creature started walking along the box edge again. - Since early childhood we are warned that one day we might become Guardians - proud representatives and guides. We are also told that we will find it out when we will be adults in our dreams. Now every being capable of using magic has their own distinct magical field that you can sense when you approach this person - don't worry, you'll learn how to do it. If you really are a Guardian, you start seeing a dreams with three distinguishable magical fields a few months before the mediators will come. You memorise the fields, and after a few months you find yourself in a place, where all you have to do is to find the people with these fields. Besides, the moment we see each other each one of us sees a little mirage depicting the place we were born in. The only detail is that usually, the mediators are older than you are, but in sometimes even the young generation may be rolled in. It has already happened a few times before, so you don't have to worry about anything. All right, your time is almost up, and there is one more issue I'd like to talk about, but if anyone has questions...

\- I do, - Charlie leaned a little bit forward. - If we see each other's birthplace during our first meeting, does this mean...

\- That I came to this world in Ancient Greece, yes, - the demon nodded and smiled, probably recalling some of the events from the bygone days. - I greeted you with a phrase in modern Greek, - red letters appeared in front of us, written by an unseen hand, fading after a couple of seconds. - _"_ _Γεια! Λοιπον, πως παει?"_ It means "Hi! So, what's up?". In my memories you might have heard another phrase in ancient Greek - _ἴθι χαίρων!_ \- "Have a good journey". 

\- Wait, if you were born in Ancient Greece, how old are you really? - I frowned, trying to get the hang of it.

\- Old enough to have personally known Pythagoras, - the demon smirked, but then his expression turned serious. - Before you go, there is something else we need to talk about - the man that pretends to be the director of the camp.

\- Do you know who he really is? Can you change him or make him move somewhere else? Or move us into another house? - the glint in Eugenia's eyes suggested that we shouldn't have waved that red flag in front of sunshine in the morning, as he had apparently let his steam out on whoever was the closest. _You just wait, you jerk, I'll paint the town red, when we'll box you into the corner._ _With an attitude like that Ray-Williamson has painted himself into it._

\- I can't say anything, till I see him with my own eyes, - Bartimaeus shook his horns and looked at us, full of determination. - The locals' policy "not my circus, not my monkeys" is pissing me off to say the least, but we'll work on our own for the time being, as there is a defence mechanism that could help us. Throughout the centuries nature and the magic flows created some elements that can give mediators a hand. And one of them is a specific flora. There are three types of flowers that cause no harm to the mediators, but can limit the magical abilities of all the other magical folk nearby if there is only one pot with them, or create a barrier that the other magical creatures would not be able to cross, if the flowers are planted in a row. I'm talking about duskbloom, bellefleur and rose-of-the-valley. You won't found them in every flower shop, but there's only one such store in this town, so they are bound to be there. Besides, they are very popular amongst the magical folk as they protect their households better than any dog. These flowers react directly to the presence of the mediators nearby, so in an hour or two they will be in full blossom, if you can get them today. Later you will put them into your room, and they will give you some protection. Besides, I'll cast a few spells on the doors, so that only you would be able to enter the bedrooms, and we'll reinforce them when the second Guardian comes.

\- Consider it done, - I smiled and put the empty waffle package away. - Anything else we might need from the florist's?

\- Do you have any marigold seeds?

\- I think so, - I tried to rake up my memory, but still wasn't sure about it. - Why?

\- It would be better to get down to business as soon as we can, but it's impossible if the house of witches is completely unknown to them. Every mansion where the mediators live has a specific part of the building entirely dedicated to the magical craft, where you learn everything you need to know safely. The time is pressing, so we should get into it as soon as possible, but still that might take us some time. Our first step would be a small one - to find the hint to the location of the key or a code opening the path to that part of the camp. It would be better to start our little search today. It wouldn't take long, but we'll have to make sure that whoever that man is, he would stay away from you as much as possible. One of the lessons that you will learn later is that you have to be very careful with marigold seeds powder when dealing with magical folk - for us it's an excellent sleeping draught that can lull someone's vigilance quicker than Mary Poppins can lull a crying baby.

\- How will we get him to take it? I mean, we can't pretend it's just some sugar powder, - Eugenia sounded doubtful but somehow intrigued.

\- No, but from what you've told, we've got an invisible ally inside the house who just so happens to brew your tea and coffee and has the ability to drop a bit of tasteless powder inside one's cup, - the demon grinned, and I couldn't bet that we all didn't.

\- I think, we even have enough time on our hands to do something more than just to mick him, - Charlene crossed her arms and looked at us. - Miss Davis said that she can't overload me with work, as I'm a minor, so she's decided that I will work only to 4 p.m. This means that in an hour and twenty minutes I'll be free as a bird.

\- But how are you going to get inside the house and convince Sebastian to do it? - I turned to Bartimaeus, sensing hidden pitfalls in otherwise perfect plan.

\- A Guardian has to enter the premises along with at least one of the mediators, when the former comes to the manor for the first time. Later we can go in and out whenever we want, so my suggestion would be that I cross the gate together with you, when you come back after work. When I will be inside the premises, I will immediately go and talk to this Sebastian of yours, - this actually makes sense and might work.

\- I can sneak you inside my bag! No one will see you and I can "accidentally" forget it in the dining room or in the kitchen itself, so you will have enough time to sneak out of it and Sebastian will surely be somewhere nearby, - Charlie beamed before rushing to add carefully, - If you agree to it, of course.

The demon hopped off from the box and vanished into thin air, before reappearing right in from of us, scaring the shit out of me. The other housemates were more calm about it (at least they didn't jump, but I couldn't see their faces, so I can't go bail for it), but I understood that it would take me some time to get used to it. Bartimaeus was now taking a closer sceptical look at Charlie's little black purse, tilting his head.

\- The plan sounds great, and it won't be a big deal for me to get out of the purse in the house, but it might be a bigger deal to get into the bag here...

\- You can take my backpack, - I pointed at my bag and received approving nods from everyone. - I can take you with me to the shop, get my things out of the bag, pack all the necessary ingredients and Charlie will take them to the camp.

\- Besides, I saw some pots in the kitchen, so you can put the flowers in them, - Eugenia chimed in with a determined look on her face, as the demon was now going round in circles around by backpack, while I tried to shove everything that I could inside the pockets of my jeans.

\- Miss Lyons! Are you upstairs? - a shrill voice was heard from below, and Charlie quickly took some of my things in her hands, while Bartimaeus dived inside the backpack and I struggled to zip it up.

\- Hurry! Down the same staircase and through the same door that you entered! I'll hold her back! - Eugenia whispered pushing us to the exit right before shouting out. - I'm coming, missis Lloyd!

Not really giving a damn about being quiet we rand down the staircases and darted out of the back door stopping to catch our breath only when we got out of the sunlit square. I took a look at my phone screen. 2:55 p.m. _Fffudge._ I turned to Charlene, pointing at time indicator, and she wheezed out after waving her hand.

\- Go... See you.... _phew_ , in an hour...

* * *

The store was already open as I ran up to it and dashed into the main area. Jeez, I must exercise more. _Or someone in my backpack has to lose some weight._ My back hurt like hell ( _no pun intended)_ , and I could feel new bruises from the demon's horns forming on my back. Great, just when I almost got rid of those on my knees and the scratches on the cheek. Alright, Ali, don't be suspicious. What demon in the backpack? Never heard of him.

Despite any our concerns missis Robinson was as fine as a fiddle as she was busy around the story and hardly noticed me entering. Her friend was sitting on a stool in the middle of the room, commenting on the arrangements and arguing about the best places for new posies. Taking my chances, I smiled to them and slithered inside the workshop, heading to the section where the seeds where stored. I had to move a couple of boxes and put some of the flowers for the wedding away from the flow of a cranked up air conditioner to get access to all of the small packages. Okay, what do we have here? Marigold seeds... Check... Duskbloom bulbs... Check... What else do I need?

\- What are the flowers that we need? Marigold, duskbloom, what else?

\- Bellefleur and rose-of-the-valley, - the demon responded, chewing loudly.

\- What are you doing there? - I turned around and looked at the bag suspiciously.

\- Making more room for the seeds.

\- _Are you eating my cookies?!_

* * *

Still sulking I clipped off another lily stem. Demon got an earful, missis Robinson got her income, as I secretly put the money for the flowers into the cash register, the bags got swapped, the Guardian had already got inside and made himself comfortable in the music room, and I still have got some time till my working day will be over. Some of the bouquets were already placed in big vases full of water mixed with flower preservative. It took my phone an eternity to download and send the recording to Molly, but she hasn't listened to it yet. I looked at the clock, trying to remember at what time the party usually starts in Cub Creek. There was still some time left before its beginning, but Mols must have already gone to the square to bring some home-made food, so she will likely notice the message tomorrow or in the middle of the night when she gets home. I'm sure I will have some new information by the time we will get in touch, but for now the thoughts racing through my mind took another direction.

So we get to be witches, police officers and judges combined? A mere thought of it made a broad smile appear on my face. A wild dream stemming from the fairytales of my childhood coming true... I only wish Molly was here to experience it all with us. Well, in a way, she is. Besides, there is no point in getting her into trouble till we sort out the sunshine matter. This made me frown, as I realised that the nasty jerk has found his way to spoilt even this aspect of my stay here. The fact that Bartimaeus belongs to the new and weird magical world was far more apparent that identities of other supernatural locals already known to us, yet he was the only one whom I felt we could trust. His frankness and that bonding feeling that appeared the moment we saw each other prompted some kind of mutual loyalty. Besides, he was the only one who was ready to jump on the wagon and teach us, while creating even a temporary protection from the director that would be reinforced later. And, if he told us the truth, we would get more help in dealing with this mysterious town that resembled an escape room. _Get your walkie-talkie out, you need a hint where to start. Our hint system has already walked home and is now probably talking to another being that might tip something off, so we're good._ I had to restraint myself from jumping into a happy dance, as we will finally start our apprenticeship by the end of the week, but I couldn't hold back a little joyful squeal. 

Fantasies and theories about what we would learn and discover filled my mind, and the rest of the working day, my way home or even the dinner blasted past me. Sunshine tried to be a killjoy ( _although, why tried? As a rule, he is THE killjoy_ ), but no one minded him. Instead, we gulped down our food and tried to be inconspicuous as each of us eyed him drinking from time to time whatever was in his cup. Fingers crossed that our plan works as it should. After the dinner we pretended to be goody-two-shoes and went back to our rooms. A pot with duskbloom flowers in full blossom was already standing on my nightstand, but I put it on the dresser, closer to the door, before I got another book out of my suitcase and read it till the darkness behind the window was impenetrable, zoning out and checking my phone now and then. Mols still hasn't read the message, but Jason's Instagram stories suggested that half of Cub Creek was now owning her and her camera a big one just so that she deleted those photos. Nanny Ogg was entering the palace in Genua and sleep started hanging on my eyelids, when someone knocked on my door.

\- Ali! Ali! Time to start looking for the clue!

Eugenia was beaming with enthusiasm, and as soon as Charlie hopped out of her room, we rushed to the downstairs, where Bartimaeus had been examining the fireplace, before he saw us coming down.

\- Ah, everyone is here, good. Take a seat, - the demon pointed at the sofa, as we exchanged slightly disappointed glances. Shouldn't we... Shouldn't we start looking for clues? The girls shared the feeling and it must have been written all over, as the demon sighed and went on. - You remember what I have told you earlier? The first step will be a small one. Nothing good will come from a person who took off like a bat out of hell and wasted all their forces at the very beginning of the marathon. You still have a lot to learn, as you don't have the general idea about the magical world yet. No mediator was given some time to learn everything they need before they were called in - you are drawn to a place when there already are some not very pleasant things going on, so you study a-going. Let's make a deal: you listen to a couple of stories and then we will get the key out of the hiding place. Is everyone fine with it?

We nodded and took our places on the sofa, while the demon got on the coffee table in front of us. This town he even got a pair of glasses and a pointer out of nowhere, reminding me of one of my mom's elder colleagues. He cleared his throat and started his narration with a question.

\- How do you choose a place to live?

\- You look through all the offers?

\- You form your preferences throughout your life and then find something that corresponds to them?

\- Open the Internet sites and decide on your own?

\- If this is a case of a normal human being, then your answers are correct, - Bartimaeus nodded and adjusted his glasses. - But there is a whole other system when it comes to witches or wizards. You will feel comfortable only in places that are built on the streams of your magic. This means that three currents flow under this very mansion, allowing you all to feel at home here. Such places are called stream crossroads, and this combination of currents grants the house a keeper - non-material being that looks after the mansion and the mediators, along with the Guardians.

\- That's Sebastian! - woah, we should have said it quieter. _Or not in unison_. However the sleeping draught worked without a hitch, and sunshine didn't wake up, so we ducked out from the cushions to the amusement of the demon. Luckily, he didn't say anything - just shook his head and continued talking with eyes sparkling with hidden laughter.

\- Indeed. He cares about your well-being and the state of the manor, and protects you. No magical being can enter the premises of the mansion, unless you personally let them do it. Besides this invitation can be called off - with your permission the keeper can kick anyone out of the house, but only if it was you who let that person in in the first place, - I lowered my hand and tried not to pout. _So we can't kick sunshine out_. Eugenia grumbled, while Charlie punched the cushion to let her peeve out.- When there are no mediators in the house for a very long time, the keeper falls asleep. The mansion doesn't fall to pieces, but it starts looking ill kept. As soon as the mediators return to the premises the keeper wakes up, but it takes him some time to restore the interior of a manor. And now here's another designing tip from the witches: in every manor the entrance to the part of the house where it is safe to practice magic is hidden in the room with a fireplace, because the key to it is hidden inside this very chimney place.

I don't know how we managed not to run to the mantelpiece, as we started fidgeting the moment we heard the words "key" and "fireplace" in one sentence. We exchanged glances full of anticipation, as I took a small cushion into my hands.

\- Why did they choose a chimney place?

\- A safe somewhere inside the house would be more secure, - the blonde shrugged, as Charlene finished Eugie's phrase.

\- Anyone can come to a fireplace. That's not reassuring at all.

\- The key is protected by a defence spell. Should anyone, apart from mediators try to take it, they will get enormous burns all over their hands. To take the key out of its safe all mediators should step to the fireplace, put their left hands on mantelpiece, and say " _Paratus sum_ " one by one. This means "I am ready". Then a key or a code would appear, but the entrance to that part of the house will be accessible only after 24 hours from the moment you've done that.

\- Why's that?

\- Back in the day, the mediators getting their key was a celebrated event, and some festivities followed the ceremony, as the magical folk used to greet their new allies and throw a party. Later the tradition became unpopular, as the magical folk and a great amount of alcohol is a dangerous mix, and no one would come if there was only juice offered. Although I sometimes miss the way trolls and dwarves would engage in dancing contests, drunk as hogs. You would not believe the way they moved their... - he stopped short for a moment and hurried to add, sligthly embarrassed. - the tradition didn't catch on, but this time pause still stands. So, who wants to be.. Ali? What's that thing on your neck?

As I reached out to put the cushion back on the armchair, the locket, previously hidden behind the T-shirt, has fallen onto my chest, catching the eye of Bartimaeus.

\- It's a locket I've found on my first day in Witchbridge.

\- Can I take a closer look?

I took the locket off, and the demon somehow hung it up into the air in front of his face. He tried to cast some spells on it, but little colourful flashes bounced off the locket. The demon muttered something that sounded like " _curious_ " under his breath, before conjuring a little red sphere on his hand.

\- Alright, Ali, can you hold it?

I leaned closer, and so did the girls, each of us puzzled and confused. Carefully I took the small orb and tried to balance it. It felt warm and soft to touch, but it hasn't changed even the slightest bit, staying in the exactly the same form, as it appeared.

\- So you didn't lie, - Bartimaeus took the glasses off and leaned thoughtfully on the pointer. - I'm sorry, but I had to check it. This locket is an example of the Othila spell - one of the forbidden charms. It engulfs a magical being and locks them inside a vessel, making them serve the creator by providing them with their powers. It is forbidden in every corner of the world, yet there will always be a sleaze bag, dreaming of getting more powers.

\- What happens to the being inside the vessel? - my voice was so husky even I didn't recognise it at first, clutching the sofa arm. There is a leaving and breathing being in the thing that I wore around my neck like a jewellery? Good grief, I... I got cold at the thought, startling when Charlie put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed it, trying to support me. Eugenia walked out of the room and returned with a glass of water that she gave me, before sitting down in the armchair on my right, as Bartimaeus answered the question.

\- It stays alive. The being doesn't feel hunger or thirst, it just stays closed inside a vessel, where it is always a pitch-dark night. If the creator wants to use their magic, the being can't refuse, but this locket wasn't used for decades now, and as the orb didn't react to you, you are neither the creator, nor the user of the charm. However, you are bound to it.

\- What does that mean? - Charlie sounded concerned, and Eugenia's stance stiffened.

\- The being is not let out if the vessel even after the death of its creator, so it can change owners. When a new user finds a vessel, they have to conduct a ritual of separation. This gives them the power over the vessel and the being, but the latter doesn't know who the new owner is and cannot reach out to them. If there is no such ritual conducted, the being becomes physically bound to the new owner, but gets a chance to talk to whoever has the vessel. Sometimes they taunt the owners and get on their nerves, as they believe that the vessel being thrown out into a mud or a river is better than serving another master. The conversations are possible when the time inside and outside the vessel aligns. That usually means that at night you might experience strange dreams...

\- ...with a Voice talking to me, - I finished the sentence, finally realising the phrase that neither Eugenia, nor Charlene have such allies. - How can we get him out of there?

\- The vessel can be broken in two cases: the creator decides to dissolve the spell or the being gives it full consent to give the owner some powers to cast a charm, but the latter should also do their best to fulfil the task, and the aim of the enchantment should not benefit the owner. It should be something like save a child, help those in need, protect someone else. That is why we need mediators, - Bartimaeus glanced at our silent group, clinging at each other. - You are unbiased, because you grew in the world, where you knew nothing about our prejudices, and you are powerful enough to right our wrongs. You want to help the being inside the vessel? Then you have to learn the magical craft and train to become skillful enough to cast a spell that would break the charm. You have to master your magic to the level which would allow you to help the others around you without the fear of hurting them or yourselves. You have to learn a bloody lot about a whole new world that, in its turn, will learn to accept and support you. Ready to take the first step into it?

Without even looking at the others, each one of us eagerly nodded in agreement, before standing up from the sofa. The magic that a few hours ago seemed like a lovely fairytale, was becoming real, and now I could see the purpose of us coming here. Noone deserves to be incarcerated inside a vessel, forced to repel whoever you can feel nearby out of fear of being enslaved again. If we can change it, we should go for it, even if it takes us some time to become capable of doing it.

Bartimaeus looked at us and smiled, satisfied with what he saw.

\- Good. Who wants to be the first?


	10. Calm before the storm

\- Ali, a bit more to the left. Good. Eugenia, one step forward. You all will have to put your hands on the mantlepiece, so make sure that everyone can reach out to it.

Bartimaeus tilted his head, crowned with horns, sceptically assessing and correcting our positions, as we were standing in front of the fire place in a semicircle, looking at each other hesitantly. It's a whole new world in front of us and a hundred thousand things to see, but right now I felt like we needed a little kick to get on this magic carpet ride. Charlie started fidgeting with the hem of her dress, as Eugenia turned to look at us and I took a deep breath. Well, there's no going back. 

\- Everyone ready?

I glanced at the mantelpiece, feeling a bit dizzy, my palms sweating. I gulped and tried to relax, repeating the same words inside my head. _No one deserves being treated like a thing. No one deserves to be bottled up. No one deserves to opt for being thrown away in their prison so as not to be used and drained of their powers again. No one should stay aside, if they can help. And you can._

\- Ready when you are, - I nodded to the demon and smiled ( _I hope reassuringly_ ) at the girls. 

\- Perfect. Ali, you will go first. Put your left hand on the mantelpiece and say out loud " _Paratus sum_ ". Eugenia, you will be the second, and you, Charlie, will be the third. Remember, first - your hand, then - your words. Let's 

\- _Paratus sum_.

My hand became glued to to the mantelpiece like a magnet, while I tried to control my facial expressions. A bundle of emotions was forming in my chest, as tiny grains of caution were drowned by overwhelming waves of excitement and curiosity, only to resurface for an instant and start the cycle all over again.

\- _Paratus sum_.

A small quiet gasp on my right told me that Eugie has also felt the same magnetism an that there was only one person left.

\- _Paratus sum_.

The fingertips on my left hand felt strange warmth and vibration resonating through the fireplace and going up the chimney, before we all hear a quiet rustle and a deafening "click" that rumbled like a menacing thunder, breaking the silence in the living room.

\- What the hell was that? - Charlie was the first to take her hand off the mantlepiece and turn to the demon. I didn't move my hand for a while, but the magnetic feeling disappeared as soon as the resonating died out.

\- The clicking sound was, probably, the start of the countdown till we get the opportunity to try out our key. And as for the second sound... I might give you a more precise answer if you all take a step back and let me take a look at whatever has fallen out of the chimney. 

I surely was glad to realize that I was not the only one surprised to hear the last bit of the demon's phrase, my housemates took the same astonished leap from the mantlepiece a few seconds after me. Bartimaeus did the same trick he'd done in the archive in the afternoon - vanishing into thin air and reappearing right in front of the fireplace - before he picked something that looked like a sheet of paper, yellowed with age. Bewildered and, at the same time, full of interest, we bent over and tried to make out the text written in a fancy but crabbed handwriting, squinting and somehow managing not to get impaled upon someone's horns. 

_World is twisting, world is twirling._   
_Hands on frames and follow warnings:_   
_Turn them right, don't turn them left,_   
_Watch your moves - they're swift and deft._   
_First - the eldest, then - the youngest,_   
_Middle child is number three._   
_C is next, then R, then one must_   
_Turn I's face, and then you'll see._

_M. Witchbridge_

\- Well, that's informative. The only thing is that now we should figure out what to do with it, - Charlie's voice was full of scepticism, as she looked at us with a questioning brow.

\- Wanna bet 10 dollars that it's an instruction to the portraits? - I nodded at the said pictures, crossing my hands on my chest.

\- Then we have just one detail left: who is who... - Bartimaeus teleported himself to the depictions of the ladies and started scrutinising them.

\- I think, I may know where we can find the answers, - Eugie started walking towards the portraits, mesmerised, and I had to spring into action along with Charlene in order to prevent the blonde from bumping into the coffee table. 

\- What?

\- Where?

\- How?

\- I saw all these names in the archive - we have an entire corner dedicated to them! I had to clean it the other day! - Eugenia snatched the paper and looked through it in order to make sure she wasn't missing anything. - Yes! Margaret Witchbridge was the wife of Robert Witchbridge, the founder of this town. They had three daughters - Rebecca, Isabella and Charlotte, and Margaret even wrote a page in her diary about them, it's on our display! Hold on, hold on... I've read it... Give me a second...

She sat down in an armchair and put her hands on her temples, visibly struggling to recall the verse, as we came closer to her, glancing at each other anxiously.

\- OK, OK, so the oldest was Rebecca, that's positive. I think, Charlotte was the second child and Isabella was the last one, but I'm not sure...

\- Don't go giving yourself a migraine, Eugenia. We still have some time till the house will let us enter the craft wing, - Bartimaeus amicably nudged the girl who was this close to panicking as she couldn't recall the order the Witchbridge daughters.

\- He's right, Eugie, - the blonde finally looked up at us, as Charlie hunkered down and I sat down cross-legged on the floor on either side of the armchair. - We can look it up in the morning, there's no harm in it. 

\- Either way, Sesame is not going to open for another 24 hours, so we're good, - I rubbed my eyes and turned to the Guardian. - By the way, how are we going to keep sunshine out of our way? Will the same trick work?

\- Yes, we still have enough seeds to make him sleep like a baby, but I'll come up with another solution in a day. Tomorrow I'll try to get into his office to find out who he really is.

\- Can't you tell that just be casting a spell or something? - Charlene was still messing with the hem of her dress, absentmindedly staring into empty space, so Eugie waved her hand in front of Charlie's face, while I was turning around trying to find out what she was staring at.

\- Usually you can figure out whether a person belongs to the magical folk by looking at their magical fields, as each specie has their own distinctive colour, but his field is constantly changing colours like twinkle lights. I've a spell in my mind that might show his true nature, but I'll need help from my light counterpart to conjure it. You shouldn't worry about anything, as your rooms are protected by the flowers and some charms on your doors, and both me and Sebastian will do everything to keep you safe. 

\- Can we watch you when you'll cast the spell? - Eugenia failed to suppress a yawn, and I didn't have to look in the mirror to tell that my eyes were red from continuous rubbing ~~and dream sand~~. The brunette seemed to be the only one still full of energy, but her zoning out made me doubt that.

\- Of course you can. We'll talk you through each charm that we will cast and you will learn, so you understand the process and don't simply follow some guidelines "because my Guardian told me so" like a litter of blind newborn kittens, - Bartimaeus took another glance at our trio and smiled gently. - _I néa méra férnei nées efkairíes_. New day brings new opportunities. Your organisms are still adjusting to having all three flows of magic nearby, so for a month or two you will feel really sleepy, but this will gradually fade away. Until then you shouldn't waste your energy, so if you really want to take your first look at one of the yet undiscovered parts of the house, I suggest you go to bed and have a good sleep. If you need anything, I'll be in the music room - that way I'll avoid meeting the man, but I'll stay near you without invading your personal space. Now up you go, _ta pouliá mou_!

We returned him the smile and wished him a good night, as we went upstairs. I nudged the girls and Charlie drew us into a group hug, breaking into a joyful chirping.

\- Oh my God, can you believe that we're going to learn magic just in a few days! I mean, I've tried doing the same thing you do with the eyes closed, and I did see some circles, but it's one thing to see and another - to control, jeez, I can't wait, oh, I've started blasting away again...

\- It's nothing, Charlie, we all feel the same, - Eugenia hastingly reassured the brunette as I giggled quietly.

\- You just put your emotions into words better than us. Well, better than me that's for sure, so it's actually a very good thing, - I winked and laughed, as the girls joined me and we broke the hug before we wished each other sweet dreams and went to our bedrooms.

The night has covered everything with a thick warm blanket, relaxing all the beings with a sweet smell of flowers mixed with the notes of freshness that one can come upon only during nocturnal hours in summer. A light gush of wind made my curtains swing, revealing a night sky full of shimmering stars, as I lied in my bed, reminding me of an old night lamp that used to stand near my bed at home. It projected a white crescent and dozens of tiny stars on the ceiling and the walls of my bedroom, and it never failed to take my breath away. Grandpa would always turn it on before he would begin reading a bedtime story, and I can still close my eyes and vividly see the pattern all around me. I had a book that I would make Grandpa almost every summer - "Treasure island" - and the memories of me sitting on my bed, imagining to be hiding from mutineers behind vast palm trees in a lush jungle forest under a starry sky always brings a smile to my face. Grandpa would change his voice to fit all the characters, but there was one that was always reenacted by me - Jim Hawkins. Turning pages, I was always eager to voice a brave hero, an exciting journey resonating in my heart, and warm summer wind gently cupping my young face with freckles like a tropical breeze. Shame that the breeze has also taken the book away, as one summer it simply wasn't there. I cried my eyes out, so Grandpa prepared a pirate quest for my in the garden behind the house, and I found all the pieces of a pirate-themed board game. _Just like I have found the locket._

My thoughts were instantly to the vessel lying on the night stand beside me, making my heart sink. Someone inside had a life. He might have had a family, children, friends or enemies. He had his ups and down, he cried and laughed, watched sunsets and sunrises. He is so much more tha just a being locked inside a piece of jewellery. I lied in my bed, trying to imagine what kind of life he had before all this, secretly hoping that maybe we could talk tonight and I could reassure him that we're on our way.

_But the silent magic of the night has wrapped the mansion in a dreamless blanket, sheltering it from the world, 'till the very first timid rays of sun started breaking the shell._

* * *

\- Hold on, there is a breathing living human being inside that locket you've found? _Holy shit!_ Please tell me you're kidding, 'cause it's creeping me out.

\- Mols, you can't really imagine how I wish it was a stupid joke, but so far everything tells me otherwise... - I sighed and finished tying the second pigtail before adjusting my glasses, trying to refrain from kicking something. Molly has just broken the news that she did reach my aunt, but whenever she mentioned me, she would start speaking slowly as if she was falling asleep. After a few seconds she would get back to normal, but just like missis Robinson she wouldn't have even the slightest idea what she was talking about. And just like in the case of my boss, I knew exactly who is behind all of this. I was ready to storm out of my room and punch sunshine's smug face, but Jones told that if I wait a bit and learn how to do proper magic, I can: a) find the proof of Ray-Williamson being the culprit; b) find a way to withstand his orbs and _THEN_ punch him in the face. After some consideration I decided to stick to the plan, but he still was making my blood boil, no matter how hard Molly tried to distract me by asking questions about other events.

\- This is mental. I just can't... I wanted to kick him in the balls for giving you nightmares, but if that was his defensive reaction, I should review my statement. How long does Bartimaeus think it will take you to learn a spell that will help you free the man?

\- He didn't specify any time frame, so I guess, it's still an open question. But something tells me it won't happen any time soon. You seem to trust him, I haven't seen you doing that in a blink of an eye for years.

\- Chipmunk, I'm ready to give a hug and a kiss to anyone who's willing to help and to protect you, so Bart is definitely on my good side. I'm glad as hell that he made sure that you rooms are safe spaces for you. But there is something that I don't like, Ali. Your voice seems a little bit strained, there's something more to this whole locket thing? Don't try to deny it, I know you better than that.

Morning phone talks with Molly were becoming a good tradition, as we both had an opportunity to keep up with the events in Colorado and Texas and to exchange our opinions, doubts and worries. Her rational side always managed to keep my panic mode, just as I was always there whenever she needed me. No wonder we knew each other like the back of our hands and could tell that something's going south even without seeing each other.

\- I just can't imagine, what did he go through during his time in the vessel. I really want to help him, but I'm wondering whether he will believe me that we really mean no harm, - uncertainty, hidden deep in my heart, has found its way to be transformed into words and toppled anger. After pondering about the man's position for some while, I realised that it might take some time for him to trust me. If he could read my thoughts about this while thing without giving me a headache that would be a good start. Or at least the quickest. Who knows how long it will take him to warm up to me to the point where he would believe me?

\- No worries, Ali, you're good. I know you and I'm absolutely sure that you'll ace your magic studies. By the time you'll be capable to break the spell, you'll have enough time to convince a penguin that Sahara is better than Antarctica and sell him a travel package with spa and saunas included, so chillax. 

\- I'll keep you posted. How is your competition going?

\- Oooh, you won't believe how much damaging material I collected yesterday! Just one piece of advice: never mix tequila and whiskey.

\- Is that what happened at that last party you still haven't told me much about? - I innocently slid in a comment, securing the first space bun with a hair tie.

\- Not getting closer, hon, not getting closer. Have I told about that guy that arrived yesterday? I think he's a nephew of mister Knox, he is staying at his place, and he caught everyone's eye yesterday, standing there all mysterious like some kind of Mister X.

\- Is he handsome?

\- I would have never believe that he's real, had I not seen him with my own eyes.

\- Are you going to see him today?

\- Yes, the households are making presentations about their sustainable development goals and achievements in the afternoon in the town hall, and everyone will be there, so I'm not throwing away my shot. Rich rosewood or brick red lipstick?

\- Make it the first one, it has more of the "wow" factor.

\- Roger it. And don't you forget, Chipmunk, if a girl sets her mind on conquering the world...

\- She can do it in five minutes. Ready to rock the stage?

\- Just wave me off, girl!

We laughed as we said our goodbyes and I took another look at my reflection. Space buns looked on me better than I thought, so apart from a charmed locket lying in the front pocket of my black overalls (I couldn't leave it behind in a house with Ray-Williamson constantly here, but wearing a vessel on my neck simply didn't feel right), nothing gave out that the teenager in front of the mirror was to maintain peace between two worlds. _007 could learn some camouflage skills from me._

* * *

\- Oooh, tell Molly that I wish her all the best. Could you ask her to take some photos of the guy and send them to the group chat?

\- Don't you ever add me to that chat.

\- Spoilsport! - Charlie stuck her tongue out at Bartimaeus who rolled his eyes, floating above sunshine's chair with a laptop in front of him, while I laughed and stole another bun from the big plate. - Why do you need your laptop right now? 

\- I must order some books for you that will come in handy during your apprenticeship, - the demon mused, typing something at an unbelievable speed.

\- I didn't know you could find books about magic in regular bookshops, - I frowned and tilted my head, pouring some tea into my cup.

\- Oh, they do not describe magic directly, but over the centuries humans picked up some traits of our world and incorporated them into their cultures and notions. It will be helpful for you to start on a familiar ground and then move on to make some progress in domaines that are unknown to you yet, - I caught myself thinking that no matter how many questions we asked or what remarks we made, the demon, contrary to the "director" of the camp has never shown irritation or dissatisfaction. Besides, despite knowing him for a rather short period of time, we all felt much more comfortable and at ease with him around, making snarky comments or chatting about our everyday lives. 

\- If humans have incorporated _some_ of the elements in their cultures, does this mean that only some bits of magic are visible to them?

\- The magic is visible to humans just like to all the other species, - the Guardian shrugged. - It's everywhere in our lives, but in order to truly see it, you should acknowledge its presence in your life and accept it. You saw a lot of magic before coming to Witchbridge, the problem was that, like all around you, you looked for logical explanations for it. Here you had no other choice, but to accept it as a part of your life.

\- That, actually, sounds pretty rational. Is that Molly? - Charlie put a strand of her hair out of her face and turned to me, as soon as my phone started buzzing and ringing, adding a peppy rhythm to an almost idyllic morning scene.

\- No, the number is unknown, - I put my fork down, as Charlie froze holding a coffeepot, after pouring the coffee itself into her cup.

\- Put them on speaker, - the Guardian closed his laptop and stopped bumping to the beat, concentrating on my ringing gadget. I bit my lip and answered the call.

\- Good morning! It's the Witchbridge post office calling! Am I talking to miss Ali Carnagen? 

\- Yes. Yes, it's me, - I recognised the voice of the female werewolf from the said institution, and judging by the surprise of one of my housemates, so did Charlie. - It's Kaylinn, right?

The door opened quietly and a bit sleepy, but determined Eugenia came into the room carrying _roller blades_? Why on earth does she need them? Charlene waved to the demon and the blonde girl to come closer and filled them in on the phone call, while I turned the volume up, so that everyone could hear it.

\- Yes, miss, you are absolutely right. I'm calling you about your delivery issue, would it be comfortable for you to come at 2 p.m. to talk over the details personally? - did I hear a speck of guilt in her voice? Meanwhile, three heads nodded their positive answer to the question, so I cleared my throat and went on.

\- Oh, it would be wonderful! It's possible that I bring my friends along, isn't it?

\- Of course, miss! We'll be glad to provide you and your friends with any information on post office services that you need! - her voice suddenly turned far more cheerful, and I could hear a quiet " _Good job! Finish the call and help Andy to sort the letters out_ ", but before I could say anything, Kaylinn started whispering, - I'm sorry, it's my boss. Come to the post office with your friends at 2 p.m., OK? - she took a deep breath, before she said with evident guilt and hope mixed in her voice, - I owe you an apology, and I was hoping you could come so I could say in person?

\- We'll be there, Kaylinn, I promise.

\- Thanks, - she clearly felt a great relief, as she sounded much more relaxed now. - I'll be waiting for you. Thanks once more.

She hung up, and we finally got to talk this through, but no one hurried to break the silence hanging in the air. I wasn't so sure of her opinion on us, given our first encounter, but something in her voice suggested that she was sincere. Or something in my head wanted her to be, prompting me to give her a second chance. _Haven't you already learned that everything is not what it seems in this town?_ I guess, I'll find out only after talking to her.

\- Well that was ...strange. You want juice or soda? - Charlie raised her brows and shook her head, passing two jugs to Eugenia, whom I finally had a chance to greet.

\- Oh, I don't think so, - Bartimaeus opened his laptop again and took another sip of whatever it was in his glass. - Werewolves are often hot-headed and impulsive, but I'll give them credit, when the credit is due: they also apologise the moment they realise they were wrong. A dwarf would apologise.... approximately after a decade or two, but not a werewolf.

\- Well, that's nice of them. Will you come with us? Ali, could you pass me some milk? I want to go to the archive earlier, but I can't hold my eyelids open, so I really need a regular coffee.

\- You... you don't drink coffee regularly... - I glanced to Charlie who was equally dumbfounded to hear the blonde's request, but another being at the table provided the explanation.

\- It's New York slang. She means a coffee with a lot of milk or cream and a heap of sugar. And, yes, Eugenia, I will surely go with you, but I have an idea: what would you say if I went there with you invisible? - Bartimaeus peeked out from behind his laptop, so now we could see his eyes along with his horns. - Neither of you will see me, but Kaylinn, right? Kaylinn might speak more freely if she sees her peers around, because as a rule, the presence of a Guardian makes it all more official. _And_ , you need to make some friends in the town, you must socialize for moussaka's sake! - _if he says it again a bit quicker, he might create a new tongue twister._ \- Besides, should something go wrong, I will be nearby and I will intervene with an element of surprise.

\- And we will have an ace up our sleeve, as no one will know that our Guardian is already in Witchbridge, - I waved my hand, starting to pack my phone and my headphones into my bag. 

\- That's a deal, - Eugenia nodded and thanked Charlie for a coffee that she made her. - See you at the post office then! As soon as I find out anything about the portraits, I'll text you!

The last thing we saw with Charlie before going out the dining room to hit the road to work was Bartimaeus starting to fight with Eugie for the last cupcake.

* * *

The wedding eve made the whole town agitated, as everyone wanted to get their sneak peak at the bouquets for the bridesmaids and the one of the bride, hoping to get some juicy details about the colour scheme or anything relating to the event. Fed up with constant curious looks over her shoulder, missis Robinson was forced to close the store for the customers today, allowing us to concentrate on our main task. My boss looked much better today, and she went at great length to assure me that she was perfectly fine and she simply was a bit under the weather yesterday. Nevertheless, I kept an eye on her, making sure that it was moving the boxes around and holding some flowers while she arranged them.

Lost in the mayhem of floral foam, clippers, floral tape, ribbons, floral moss and corsage pins I nearly jumped out of my skin, when one of my pocket buzzed. It took me a second to realize that I received a text, so I glanced around to make sure I was alone, before opening it. 

_**Witchbridge** group chat _

_**Eugie** added user **Bartimaeus** to the chat_

_**Eugie** sent two photos to the chat_

The first file turned out to be a photo of the clue we've found in the fireplace, but the second one... I zoomed the image to make out more of something that looked like a written passage from the diary. 

_...and the evening was wonderful. Robert bought Rebecca an enchanting young puppy that immediately attracted the attention of all the guests of our small soirée. Our eldest immediately called her new pet Lucky and spent the entire evening playing with the fluffy one. Isabella joked that the dog would scare away all potential suitors of her sister, but prayed her not to fall into despair, as she, Bella, can share hers. The dinner was filled with laughter, yet Charlotte still didn't enjoy it and stayed by my side throughout the night, contrary to her elder sisters. Robert and I wonder whether a summer at my mother's place in Norwich..._

As I concentrated on decoding the same incredibly elaborate handwriting that we saw on the clue tonight, my phone buzzed again. I switched to the main chat, desperately trying to keep in mind the details that I've noticed.

 **Eugie** : Rebecca is the eldest daughter, her portrait is that with the dog on it.

 **Ali:** Charlotte is the youngest child, she must be the one who was depicted with an elder lady behind her.

 **Charlie:** Then there's only Isabella left - she would be the girl among the flowers.

 **Captain Jones:** and that makes it like this: 1 - r, 2 - c, 3 - i, 4 - c, 5 - r, 6 - i.

 **Bartimaeus:** I have to admit that I'm impressed. Great job! We just need a little adjustment...

_**Bartimaeus** changed username **Eugie** to **Goldie Pie**_

_**Bartimaeus** changed username **Charlie** to **Taffy**_

_**Bartimaeus** changed username **Ali** to **Baby Carrot**_

_**Bartimaeus** changed the group chat name **Witchbridge** to **Home, sweet home**_

**Bartimaeus:** Now everyone gets a nickname!

 **Baby** **Carrot** : You've got to be kidding me 

**Taffy** : lol

 **Cap Jones** : ROFL

 **Goldie Pie** : Well, you've got to admit that now it's fair...

_**Baby Carrot** changed username **Bartimaeus** to **Mother Hen**_

**Captain Jones:** a gang of five-year-old kids off to save the world. 

**Mother Hen** : Touche

\- Ali, dear, have you seen the clippers?

 _Drats!_ My phone almost fell out of my hands, but I managed to catch the gadget after a few somersaults, before I got a chance to hide it in a pocket.

\- That's weird... I swear I saw them somewhere, - missis Robinson came in the back room, holding a few flower tapes with a puzzled look. - Must be somewhere in the main area. Just the usual chaos of the wedding preparation. Oh, Ali, can you finish the bridesmaids bouquets before the break!

\- Not a problem! I've got just one left to go!

\- Perfect, dear! Thanks a lot.

A huge wave of relief washed the anxiety off me, as my boss returned to her workplace, and I could finally catch my breath. Missis Robinson is a wonderful boss, and she gave us our first fill-in on the magical world, but I would like to keep the state of our affairs far from the madding crowd, at least until we are fully aware the situation. I caught a glimpse of the local curiosity this morning, and I'm not very fond of seeing such enthusiastic faces in the windows of the mansion, so I got back to my work cover, imagining what we will see in the house tonight.

* * *

" _imagining what we will see in the house tonight_ ". Let's just say that I'm glad my running has improved and now it was almost as good as my daydreaming. The dusty long road appeared ahead of me, as I turned around the corner, almost bumping into a woman in a T-shirt with a familiar post office logo.

\- Oh God, I'm so sorry, - I stopped and raised my hands, taking a better look at the lady. We didn't collide, as I managed to steer clear of her at the last second, but she also stopped and, in her turn, started staring curiously at me. _Woah_. For a couple of moments I felt like an exotic animal in a zoo under her regard, and this was more than enough for me to get extremely uncomfortable and begin to itch to get away from this encounter. 

\- Are you OK, ma'am?

My question snapped her out of tailspin, as the woman took another inquisitive look at my face, before turning around and disappearing in one of the buildings. _And what on earth was that all about?_ I hope she's not one of the magical beings, 'cause working with her will be awkward to say the least. Still knocked all of a heap, I strolled down to the post office, absentmindedly glancing at a new window. The bells ringed as I pushed the door, and three heads turned in my direction with raised eyebrows and concerned expressions. 

\- Ali, right on time! Why are you looking like this?

\- Umm, is everything fine?

\- Is anything wrong?

\- I've just had a really weird encounter. The woman I met on the street was staring at like in such a weird way... - I shrugged as I recalled the event, still feeling the gaze of the lady on my skin.

\- Oh gosh, let me guess? Middle-aged? Not very tall? Wearing a T-shirt with the post office logo on it? - Kaylinn stepped a bit closer, and chuckled as I nodded in agreement. - Oooh, get ready for new gossip.

The werewolf's remark dazed all three of us and now all eyes were on the dark skinned girl. Gossip? And me? Only if the librarian wants to find out some juicy bits on the most frequent visitor. Eugie and Charlie shared this opinion, as our trio failed to make sense out of Kaylinn's comment and Thomson voices our doubts.

\- Are you sure? Why on earth would someone gossip about her? She simply was out on the street!

\- Because you're new to the town and its Witchbridge! - the werewolf shook her head and raised her hands, - Listen, there are some things I have to tell you. First of all, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have blamed you for everything... I was... Jeez, I'm sorry. I thought that mediators' appearance here would magically resolve all the problems, and I basically dropped the fact that you are normal beings just like us, and you need some time, and it's alright... I didn't think that you would be so young, so I let my personal disappointment with my dreams and my misjudgement lead me, and the rest is history that you know. I should have never said any of that, it was a rough welcome and you didn't deserve it. I'm... I'm really sorry and I called you here to today to apologise and to say that if there is anything you need....

Her voice cracked and she gulped, looking up and trying to keep her posture, but her eyes let her nervousness and firmness out. The first impression of Kaylinn would be a strong, confident, fiery girl, and now she was determined to make amends, even though she did seem to be scared of our possible reaction. I couldn't help feeling my respect for her rising, as she was ready not to ignore the issue or treat it like an elephant in the room, but to face the consequences no matter what, 'cause it was the right thing to do. With a great relief, I saw Charlie's stance soften somewhat, and a gentle smile appearing on Eugie's face. Well, second chances do exist for a reason.

\- You've said it yourself, Kaylinn. We're all normal beings, and it's OK to make mistakes and to learn from them, - the blonde housemate who was standing near the werewolf looked at her sympathetically, as Charlie came closer and punched Kaylinn in the arm in a friendly manner.

\- And you've apologised for it, so no bad blood.

\- Unless you are a fan of Taylor Swift. Then we can put the song as a ringtone for you, - I chuckled at Charlene poking Kaylinn who seemed baffled, but definitely relieved, as she shook her curls, flashed a wide smile and let a small laugh. 

\- Oh no, spare me. Lil' Red Ridin' Hood would be better. In fact, - she cleared her throat, - I had thought about how I could help you, so what would you see if I put you into the picture over a meal? I'm sure that Daisy can find us a table where no one would eavesdrop on us. 

_Now you're speaking our kind of language._

* * *

\- So, basically you and the sharpies are playing off against each other?

Cheery Daisy took our order and went to the counter, leaving us four alone in the furthest corner of the cafe, so we got down to business.

\- Right now - yes, but the situation hasn't always been so drastic, - Linn sipped her milkshake before moving on. - I mean, on the one hand, there aren't that many reasons why we should skip around, giving each other sloppy kisses in both cheeks. One of the first things you learn about Witchbridge when you are, as Ali had put it, _a-were_ as is that it was our ancestors and aunt Abby's kin who were the first citizens of the town.

\- Who's aunt Abby? - Charlie stopped eating the milk froth off her coffee, knitting her brows.

\- Missis Robinson, Ali's boss. She's our neighbour, so we're used to calling her "aunt Abby". Getting back to the matter, almost all of the first Witchbridge citizens started working in the mines, expanding their scope. The rest worked on the surface, trying to mingle with the people who arrived much more later. And only then the sharpies appeared, - the girl rolled her eyes and slurped the beverage. - They have also had a way with words, so since the moment they came they have been holding high posts, and I hate to say it, but they're good at it. The majority of us are too short-tempered to hold a public office and we know it. Aubrianna Lawson is now the mayor's assistant, and as in our town the real power is in the hands of mayor's assistant, mayor's deputy and the council board, her position gives them an upper hand and that upsets some of ours.

\- Is that the woman everyone was protesting against the other day? 

\- Wait, wait, wait, wasn't that the one who they called... - Charlie fired away before coming to a rapid halt, but the werewolf finished her sentence, nodding.

\- The bitch. That's a conservative patriarchal society with their heads high up in their bums for you. They hate not because she's a Lawson, they hate her 'cause she's a woman. I mean, she hasn't done anything wrong, she tries to propel some progress here. The town has got a better infrastructure, more buildings were renovated. Yes, she has a firm grip, but she's just and open-minded. Both us and sharpies started getting along like a big family on a Thanksgiving - we grumble, we're not so happy about it, but we know that we're relatives and that we're in one boat. So, we've started learning how to coexist peacefully. Now they protest because she wants to invest more into ski resorts and close a mine, but those jerks prefer ground falling on their heads than a flow of tourists into the town!

\- All right, gossip girls, who wants something to satisfy the munchies?

\- Oh, Daisy, you're a fairy godmother! - full plates were placed right in front of us, and the woman tilted her head.

\- Well, hun, I've got to keep your stomachs full, otherwise you'll curse or bite someone. And I love your hairstyle today!

For a while we turned into a gang of hamsters, but then my curiosity got the better of me.

\- So these ground movements are something regular here?

\- We've had them for as long as I can remember, - Charlie passed Linn a pepper shaker, and Eugie arranged some of our empty plates into a small heap, before the werewolf went on. - They were usually a small ones, but this spring the thing has spiralled out of control. They started happening more and more often, bringing more destruction. There were several accidents, so the question of closing the most dangerous mine became a burning issue. But the town's economy depends on mining, so we have to fill in the gap. The mountains are practically within a walking distance, so a ski resort can be a perfect solution, but in the last couple of months there was a lot of small incidents that led to fights or clashes. Usually it would be our or sharpies' property ruined and someone from the other side is bound to be there. And that doesn't help her image and the situation in general, 'cause the board argues that if she can't handle her family what good can she bring to us all?

\- Oh, so now Ray-Williamson being there actually does make sense, - Eugenia sat back, twisting a napkin in her hands, as Charlie snorted.

\- I bet he's their leader. Like a yelling Darth Vader or something.

\- He'll always be the head of all the Richards sitting there.

\- They aren't all Richards, Ali - Kaylinn turned to me, speaking carefully and trying to understand what I said.

\- What's the short form of "Richars"?

\- Ummm, Rich, Rick, Di... For God's sake, Carnagen! - Eugenia has thrown the napkin at my head, before joining us all and laughing out loud.

\- That... _phew_ , that was a good one, - Kaylinn wiped away some tears and as soon as checked to see whether her mascara was still on, the game was back on. - But that's exactly how it is. Moreover, he doesn't want to see my father anywhere in power. The mayor's deputy office is vacant, so my father wants to run for it, but your director won't hear about it. He is now throwing a monkey wrench into dad's works, going around telling everyone the same thing he lies about Aubrianna: no good for the town.

\- And what do you think? Could they make the town better together? - the blonde girl leaned forward and pushed her empty glass away. Meanwhile Kaylinn didn't hesitate with the answer.

\- Totally. Dad supports the idea of the town evolving and expanding. Besides, if the dad gets on the same level with her, like 95% of our family will calm down and start thinking clearly. Sooo, I'm totally down for it. Hayden is undecided yet, 'cause he had always thought that as Ray-Williamson lived inside that mansion, then the man was the real Guardian. However, after that jerk burned our uncle's face and Hayden spent some time around your camp, seeing how the man treats you, my brother started to see the light. He tipped you off to go to Ali's boss, 'cause even with all his chivalry outbrraks he still follows every guideline in the book.

\- Wait a second, brother?! - Charlie has almost spit out her coffee, but the only reason neither Eugie, nor I didn't do the same ws the fact that we hadn't been drinking anything at the moment. I thought they were dating! - Isn't he your boyfriend?

\- God, no! Far be it from me! - Linn jumped on her seat almost turning the table on me and her, before breaking into laughter when she saw our amazed faces. Well, that's a new turn. I hope she can give Charlie his phone number, otherwise Thomson might fall of the chair out of frustration. - He's my half-brother - my dad's son from his first marriage. He was with me that day, 'cause we've already heard about the uncle's injuries and that Charlie arrived, and he wanted to make sure I wouldn't go to your mansion and make a scene, buuut... - she sighed and flashed an uneasy smile.

\- You've apologised for that. That's already over, - I nudged her as my housemates nodded. - Can I ask you why did you sniff us though?

\- We've got an advanced sense of smell, so we can literally smell when someone lies if we're standing close enough. That's what prompted us to believe you and motivated Hayden to send you to aunt Abby for a conversation.

\- Can you sniff Ray-Williamson if we can arrange a meeting and start asking him some questions? - the blonde's eyes started sparkling with hope, but I was afraid Kaylinn would be sick after a few seconds near the man.

\- Sorry, but as soon as he opens his mouth I start hearing seagulls and the wind takes me far away, - the werewolf laughed it off, before she bit her lip. - Speaking about conversations... No offence meant, - she eyed us carefully, - but... did aunt Abby tell you that we are not supposed to greet you because of some traditions or something?

\- Let me guess, it was sugarcoating instead of saying directly "you're not welcome here"? - Lyons became gloomy and began to tear a napkin apart.

\- No, you really are welcome here! - Linn hastingly reassured us, firing away further. - And the fact that it is forbidden to lobby you and to go and meet you before you've decided that it's necessary is also true. We need some help from the outside to reach a compromise, so that we stop pulling the rope. The thing is that we don't know you yet. Everyone is waiting for you to show what things and values you back, before they decide whether you can trust you or not.

\- If I were you, I would do the same thing, - Charlie flipped her hair, making it fall on her back in a heavy dark wave. - I wouldn't trust a person who lives with that brute under the same roof even a used cotton swab.

\- But how will you decide whether you can trust us, if the situation remains more or less calm? - I loosened my hair ties, as two buns on my head started giving me headache.

\- Oh, don't you worry about that. You won't believe the amount of rumours about you circulating the town right now! I mean, it's a small town, where everyone knows each other. And now it's summer which means that almost all kids are gone, it's too hot for someone's liking, everyone's sick of the bittering between my family and the Lawsons, and now we suddenly get some fresh blood. Of course everyone talks about you! I heard about you before I got to see you, so when you meet locals now it's actually just them who have to introduce themselves, 'cause everyone already knows you. The only thing they don't know yet is what side are you on. 

\- Technically, we're in between, but I guess proving it with actions would be easier, - Eugie passed Charlie her phone, as we all started packing, while the brunette murmured "a tinderbox of a town" under her breath. A thought came to my mind, and I froze for a moment, contemplating, before voicing it.

\- Kaylinn, you said that the stronger tremblings and clashes began this spring, right? - the girl nodded, while my housemates were trying to guess what I was hinting at. I took a moment before going on. I wasn't afraid of asking her which is surprising for me. I was afraid that I already know the answer. - When did Aubrianna and your father start pushing this ski resort idea?

You know, sometimes you need a decoding machine to get to the answer, but I was glad that there was no need for it. The only thing that we all were _not_ glad about, was the sudden realization in Kaylinn's hazel eyes. _Well, something definetely is rotten in the state of Denmark._

* * *

A posh carnival took over the streets of Genua as the knocking of my door distracted me from the book, signaling that the time has come. In the evening we slipped out of sunshine's gaze into the music room, where a concise conference was held. Bartimaeus was pleased with us making a new acquaintance in the town, but the connection between the trembles, mines and Ray-Williamson's destruction of people's reputation worried him. The director's office was protected by powerful spells, so it took the demon a while to break into it, without setting any of the alarms off. There wasn't much related to the magic, but a few documents on his table turned out to be... _interesting_. There was a detailed plan of Lawson's town development project with the articles concerning the mine closure highlighted in red, a torn wedding invitation for tomorrow's event, sent by Mr. Nicholas Lawson and Ms. Laura Barnes, and a map of the city mines. Nothing was pointing at what sunshine could gain from it, but the torn invitation for the evening ceremony has set us off. A large gathering of vampires with people and possibly werewolves? For it to go without a hitch, we'll need to lock Ray-Williamson in a cellar or to stay around the wedding. The Guardian gave the thumbs up to the second option, as keeping putting sleeping draught into the director's beverages will raise a red flag. I was supposed to have a day off tomorrow, but a quick call to missis Robinson ensured that we would have an opportunity for the sunshine not to ruin both the preparations and the event itself.

We agreed that together with Bartimaeus I would go to the church where the wedding would be held to give a hand with the arrangement installation. The girls would join us after their work, and we will remain in the church, keeping a low profile and keeping an eye on the process. We've talked through some plausible explanations should anyone ask what we're doing there, before the meeting was ended. The demon warned us that we had some time before we could get into the new location of the house, so it was up to us to decide what to do. At first we video called Jason and watched Molly's presentation from Eugenia's room, making so much noise to support her from the other state that Jason had to turn the volume off. We didn't hear the jury decision, but Molly's glowing face, as she stepped off the stage, after sending a Mona Lisa smile somewhere in the crowd, told us that she has definitely won at least one competition today. Her mood toned down a bit after hearing the news about the possibe intentions of sunshine, so she made us promise to video call her tomorrow during the wedding to keep her posted, before we disconnected. My chest was swollen with pride, as I knew how important this festival is for Mol's family, so for some time I forgot about everything else, talking only about how cool Molly's speech was. She and her family deserve it like no one else and I wish them all the luck with all my heart. I felt a tingle of sadness that I couldn't be to share the moment, but I silenced it, admitting that in a certain way I am there with her and the distance between us would not affect the scale of my support.

I asked the girls to surf the Cub Creek official site to find the results, but they hadn't been posted yet, so we tried to watch a movie. After a while we've decided to abort mission, as we were too agitated to concentrate on the film, with all the news and expectations taking our full attention, so we closed the laptop and left for our rooms. Eugenia was keen on dedicating the time to studying some art techniques, Charlene wanted to practice some ballet stances to keep her mind concentrated, while I let my mind wandering around the Discworld, till the knocking told me it was high time to hit the road.

The hall was empty, but Charlie and Eugie along with the demon were already standing near the portraits, each radiating a mix of determination and slight nervousness. The surge of excitement made me think that the ground was trembling again, but I pulled myself together and tried not to hop or skip on my way downstairs. 

\- Alright, ladies, if my calculations are correct, we should have obtained the access four minutes ago. Eugenia, I will ask you to turn the portrait in the left. Ali, you'll take the one on the right, and Charlie will be responsible for the one in the middle. 

We stepped up to the portraits, and I could have sworn I have sensed the smell of paint from the one in front of me. Gulping and taking a sharp breath, I put my hands on the frame, glancing at the depicted shapes of two women, before exchanging looks with the girls. Charlie has gone a bit pale, and Eugenia has clutched her frame like a safety ring, although I suppose I wasn't looking any better. My nervousness has transformed into dizziness, so I concentrated on the Guardian's voice to clear my mind. 

\- Remember, quickly turn them to the right, one after the other. The sequence is: Eugie, Ali, Charlie, Ali, Eugie, Charlie. I will tell you whose turn it is. Ready?

We nodded, throwing our shoulders back and flipping the hair out of our faces. Now or never.

\- Good. Eugie! Ali!

The painting seemed to be stuck at first, so I had to throw all my weight in in order to move it. The portraits gave into with a horrible screech, but I kept pushing, as Charlene on my right was ready to do the same. Bartimaeus's voice steered us, like a lighthouse, and my hands dropped with relief, when I heard the final " _aaand Charlie!_ ", and I finally felt the anxiety rolling off.

We didn't even have time to take a step back, as the portraits started moving on their own, silently returning to their initial positions. The soundless activity has given me creeps, but not even coming next to the emotions I felt, when the wall started shaking and the middle portrait began to glide up. 

\- Holy cow!

The space that was hidden by Isabella's picture started transforming, as if the very core of the house was rewriting itself. I grabbed Charlie's hand, as she did the same with Eugie, and we stood staring at the changing thing, as if paralysed. We couldn't have done something wrong, could we? We've checked it before, it should have been correct! Panicking, I thought that the wall was tearing itself down, when a glimpse of darkness brought home the final realization. It wasn't demolishing itself, it was... making space.

When the rumbling died out, we stepped forward a bit, still holding hands, while Bartimaeus was looking at us expectingly. Massive stone stairs were leading down an unlit passageway that has appeared like a black hole right in the middle of the fall with Isabella's portrait levitating above it. My heart was racing, and I didn't realize I was squeezing Charlie's hand really hard, till she nudged me with her elbow.

\- Ali, don't forget to breathe!

I chuckled, but the nervousness didn't leave me, and I was glad as hell I didn't let the brunette's hand, as the Guardian has pushed us to take our first step into the unknown.

\- Girls, - Bartimaeus created a bright orb that floated into the passageway lighting the staircase as a guiding star. - It's time to make your first step.

Well... _here goes nothing_.


End file.
